THE     TENANTS 


EPISODE     OF     THE     EIGHTIES 


MARY      S     WATTS 


THE    TENANTS 


THE    TENANTS 


AN    EPISODE    OF    THE    '80S 


BY 


MARY    S.   WATTS 


NEW    YORK 

THE    McCLURE    COMPANY 

MCMVIII 


Copyright,  1008,  by  The  McClure  Company 


Published,  March,   1908 


THE   TENANTS 


CHAPTER    ONE 

THEY  were  tearing  down  the  old  Gwynne  house  the 
other  day  as  we  drove  past,  and  it  was  not  with- 
out a  twinge  of  sentimental  regret  that  we  beheld 
the  spectacle.  The  old  Gwynne  house  was  what 
our  newspapers  delight  to  honour  by  referring  to  as  an  "  his- 
toric landmark."  In  the  huge,  expensive,  devastating,  and 
reconstructing  haste  of  a  growing  American  town — a  town 
of  the  middle  West  at  that — any  building  twenty-five  years 
of  age  is  likely  to  be  so  described;  but  this  must  have  num- 
bered all  of  four-score.  Many  valiant  notable  deeds  and 
people  were  associated  with  it ;  it  went  through  a  whole  epic 
of  adventures  like — as  one  might  whimsically  fancy — a  sta- 
tionary Odysseus.  At  the  latter  end  it  fell  to  be  that  common 
drudge  and  slattern  among  homes,  a  boarding-house ;  reached 
the  last  sordid  depth  as  a  tenement ;  and  now  they  are  abolish- 
ing it  utterly,  and  a  new  subdivision  to  be  called,  I  believe, 
Gwynne  Park  Place,  will  presently  flourish  above  the  grave. 
Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  park ;  it  lay  upon  the  utmost 
border  of  town,  and  brick  walls  bound  with  a  ribbon  of  stone 
along  the  top,  kept  the  house  and  its  outlying  lawns  in  a 
pompous  seclusion.  That  was  all  swept  away  long  ago;  of 
late  the  ground  has  been  reclaimed  from  slums  and  shanties 
and  laid  out  in  building-lots,  curbed,  sewered,  gas-mained. 
But  you  may  see  here  and  there  a  single  elm  or  buckeye,  keep- 
ing yet  amongst  the  spruce  new  flower-beds  and  within  call  of 
factory-whistles,  some  air  of  its  antique  dignity,  remote  and 


4  THE    TENANTS 

cool.  In  my  time  Doctor  Wid&mah's  cottage,  hard  by  where 
you  used  to  turn  into  the  Gwynne  driveway,  was  the  only 
other  dwelling  hereabouts;  a  great,  spraddling,  staring 
apartment-house  covers  the  site  of  it  now. 

Governor  Gwynne  built  his  mansion — as  he  probably  called 
it — in  the  year  eighteen-thirty  or  thereabouts ;  and  being  an 
admirer  of  the  classic  and  a  wealthy  man  for  those  days, 
treated  himself  to  a  fine  Parthenon  front,  with  half  a  dozen 
stone  pillars  in  the  Doric  taste  springing  from  the  black- 
and-white  pavement  of  the  veranda  to  uphold  the  overreach 
of  the  roof,  "  Governor  Gwynne's  Attic  roof,"  as  some  wit  of 
the  mid-century  once  styled  it;  that  wretched  pun  survives 
to-day  in  a  kind  of  deathless  feebleness;  it  will  only  pass 
from  men's  memories  with  the  house  itself.  Much  the  same 
fashion  of  architecture  is  popular  nowadays,  but  people  pay 
more   attention   to   comfort.     The   governor's   pillars   were 
ingeniously  disposed  so  as  to  darken  all  the  windows  looking 
that  way,  whether  in  the  double  parlours  on  the  first  floor, 
the  bed-chambers  on  the  second,  or  the  big  ballroom  over  the 
entire  house  on  the  third.     It  was  a  rather  gloomy  splendour 
in  which  the  old  gentleman  lived,  I  think.  The  rich,  pon- 
derous mahogany  furniture,  the  dismal  brocade  draperies,  the 
hair-cloth  and  brass  nails,  the  ghastly  white  marble  mantel- 
pieces carved  with  mortuary-looking  urns  and  cornucopias 
spilling  out  cold  white  marble  fruits,  with  which  he  embellished 
his  abode,  were  yet  to  be  seen  when  I  was  a  child.  The  hall 
was  decorated  with  a  wall-paper  setting  forth  the  wanderings 
of  Aeneas,  wherein  he  and  his  companions  marched,  fought, 
and  sailed  progressively  all  about  the  walls  and  up  the  stairs, 
ending — entirely  innocent  of  any  irony — with  the   descent 
into  hell,  and  the  awful  waves  of  Phlegethon  naming  on  either 


THE    TENANTS  5 

side  of  the  double-doors  into  the  ballroom,  on  the  top  landing. 
The  sternness  of  the  subject  somehow  subdued  or  dominated 
its  brilliant  colouring;  and  I  have  never  been  able  to  divest 
my  mind  of  that  incongruous  association.  For  me  the  pale 
helmsman  still  steers  toward  that  ballroom  door;  and  it  is 
beside  Governor  Gwynne's  ancient  black  walnut  newel-post 
that  I  shall  always  behold  the  splendid  figure  of  the  hero 
lusty  and  living  amongst  the  exiguous  shadows.  In  the 
library  the  Governor's  law-books  paraded  along  the  shelves 
in  close  order  behind  the  securely  locked,  shining  glass-and- 
mahogany  doors ;  in  the  dining-room  there  stood  a  grim  old 
mahogany  wine-cellaret  like  a  short  upright  coffin ;  it  was 
difficult  to  imagine  any  sort  of  good-cheer  proceeding  from 
that  forbidding  receptacle,  but  out  of  it  Governor  Gwynne 
had  entertained  Andrew  Jackson,  Captain  Marryat,  Henry 
Clay,  a  whole  long  register  of  celebrities.  And  I  believe — 
under  correction,  for  the  date  is  cloudy  in  my  recollection 
— that  he  was  preparing  to  entertain  the  Prince  of  Wales 
with  its  help,  when  that  young  gentleman  visited  this  coun- 
try, had  not  humanity's  oldest  and  best-known  guest  called 
upon  him  earlier.  They  used  to  show  you  the  exact  spot  in 
the  vast  darkling  front  parlour  on  the  south  side  where  his 
body  had  lain  in  state  a  September  afternoon  in  1851,  and 
Chase  had  pronounced  the  funeral  oration  over  him.  There 
was  a  full-length  portrait  of  him  scowling  at  a  scroll  of  legal 
cap,  with  a  big  double-inkstand  on  the  table  beside  him — 
"  handy  so  he  could  shy  it  at  you  in  case  you  disagreed," 
Gwynne  Peters  used  profanely  to  suggest — hanging  on  the 
parlour  wall  just  opposite  the  long  mirror  between  the  win- 
dows ;  the  chairs  and  sofas  were  always  shrouded  in  white 
linen  covers ;  white  net  bags   swathed  the  ornate  gilt-and- 


6  THE    TENANTS 

glass  chandeliers.  It  was  a  ghostly  place,  that  room,  with  a 
clock  mounted  in  a  kind  of  Greek  temple  of  alabaster  under 
a  glass  dome  on  the  mantel  sepulchrally  ticking  out  the  irre- 
coverable hours,  and  Governor  Gwynne  eyeing  you  sternly 
from  his  elevation.  He  looked  not  too  well  pleased  with  his 
canvas  immortality  and  considering  what  he  must  see,  it  was 
no  wonder. 

He  was  born  some  time  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  and  therefore  must  have  been  upwards  of 
sixty  before  the  day  when  Chase  sonorously  reminded  his 
hearers  in  the  south  parlour  that  — "  The  history  of  Samuel 
Gwynne's  life  was,  in  very  truth,  the  history  of  his  native 
State,  so  closely  was  he  associated  with  her  struggles,  her 
vicissitudes,  and  her  achievements.  ...  If  zeal,  if  in- 
tegrity, if  courage  and  ability  in  the  discharge  alike  of  public 
and  private  duties  can  establish  a  claim  upon  the  grateful 
remembrance  of  posterity,  then,  fellow-citizens,  we  may  well 
point  with  pride.  .  .  .  This  was  the  noblest  Roman  of 
them  all,"  etc.  A  neat  pamphlet  containing  the  address  and 
the  Resolutions  of  the  Bar  Association  was  afterwards  printed 
and  distributed ;  it  was  only  the  other  day  that  I  came  upon 
a  copy  of  it,  very  yellow  and  dusty,  but  bearing  no  marks  of 
ever  having  been  tampered  with  by  a  reader — indeed,  some 
of  the  leaves  were  yet  uncut — among  other  essays  and  ora- 
tions of  a  like  nature  blushing  unseen  in  the  darkest  corner 
of  a  second-hand  book-shop.  From  it  I  extracted  the  rhe- 
torical gems  just  cited,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  they  will  ever 
see  the  light  again,  yet  I  am  confident  that  the  old  gentle- 
man deserved  much  that  was  said  of  him,  and  would  have 
been  the  first  to  deprecate  any  "  pointing  with  pride."  He 
was  an  upright  judge,  a  temperate  and  God-fearing  man;  he 


THE    TENANTS  7 

amassed  a  handsome  fortune,  and  served  his  particular  sec- 
tion of  the  country  through  two  terms  as  Governor,  rather 
fancying  himself,  I  believe,  in  the  role  of  statesman,  and  all 
unwittingly  laying  the  foundations  of  that  intolerable,  ab- 
surd, and  tragic  Gwynne  family  pride;  it  beset  all  his  de- 
scendants and  all  the  countless  kindred  of  Gwynnes  like  a 
curse.  No  more  arrogantly  self-righteous  set  of  people  ever 
existed;  and  no  more  hysterically  clannish.  The  Governor's 
memory  held  them  all  together  for  forty  years  after  his 
death ;  only  recently,  with  the  introduction  of  new  blood,  has 
that  strange,  intangible  bond  dissolved.  Samuel  died  and  was 
gathered  to  his  fathers;  and  Samuel,  his  son  reigned  in  his 
stead,  and  busily  drank  himself  to  death  in  as  short  a  time  as 
that  agreeable  result  could  be  compassed;  he  was  not  the 
first  nor  the  last  of  the  family  to  make  thus  the  easy  Aver- 
nian  descent.  I  have  heard  some  of  the  Gwynnes  themselves 
comment  upon  the  familiar  fate  and  character  of  great  men's 
sons,  as  exemplified  by  Governor  Gwynne's  with  a  kind  of 
melancholy  complacence.1  The  Governor  left  a  queer,  unjust, 
and  wrong-headed  will — realising,  perhaps,  how  queer,  un- 
just, and  wrong-headed  were  some  of  his  prospective  heirs — 
tying  up  a  part  of  his  property  to  the  third  generation, 
devising  what  seemed  an  unfair  proportion  to  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  of  whom  it  might  be  said  that  their  name  was 
legion — Lucien  Gwynne,  David  Gwynne,  Charlotte,  Eleanor, 
Marian;  I  have  never  known  anyone  who  could  accurately 

i  Judge  Lewis,  whom  I  have  quoted  more  than  once  in  this  history, 
had  a  way  of  saying  with  prodigious  gravity  that  the  Gwynnes  as  a 
family  were  not  without  some  of  the  weaknesses  of  genius;  a  remark 
which  they  innocently  liked  to  repeat  until  Gwynne  Peters,  the  only 
one  of  them  all  who  ever  discovered  the  slightest  sense  of  humour, 
pointed  out  its  ambiguity. — M.  S.  W. 


8  THE    TENANTS 

catalogue  all  the  Gwynnes — and  bequeathing  the  house  and 
furniture  to  all  his  children  in  succession,  as  if  he  had  a 
premonition  that  none  of  them  would  enjoy  it  long.  There 
was  a  son  who  had  run  away  to  sea  and  was  never  heard  of 
again;  no  provision  was  made  for  him  in  case  he  should 
reappear,  although  he  was  the  oldest.  Then  came  Sam,  that 
died  in  a  fit  of  delirium  tremens;  then  Arthur.  Him  they 
found  hanging  to  a  beam  under  the  "  Attic  "  roof  one  sum- 
mer morning  not  long  after  he  had  succeeded  to  the  kingdom 
of  the  Gwynnes ;  and  I  suppose  there  was  a  horrid  silence  in 
the  attic,  and  presently  wild,  pale-faced  women  and  running 
and  hurry  and  horses'  hoofs  churning  the  gravel  before  the 
door.  The  body  was  laid  in  the  same  south  parlour  and 
Governor  Gwynne  stared  over  his  scroll  at  the  suicide. 
Arthur  left  two  daughters,  young  women  grown;  by  the 
time  I  put  on  long  dresses  they  were  two  old  maids  and  lived 
narrowly,  doing  their  own  work,  in  a  little  cheap  house  at 
the  other  end  of  town.  They  were  always  clad  alike  in  the 
last  bombazine  that  was  ever  seen  among  us,  I  am  sure, 
and  wore  their  hair  in  the  ringlets  of  eighteen-sixty,  with 
knobs  of  black  satin  ribbon  at  the  temples.  They  had  the 
name  of  being  queer,  but  then  all  the  Gwynnes  were  queer. 

After  Arthur,  a  daughter,  Harriet  Peters,  went  to  live 
in  the  house ;  she  was  a  widow,  Donald  Peters  having  gone 
into  the  army— about  >62  or  '63, 1  think— and  died  of  typhus 
in  Libby  Prison.  One  would  have  thought  the  house  held  out 
very  slender  attractions  for  the  remaining  Gwynnes,  by  this 
time ;  but  all  the  heirs  were  pretty  well  straitened  in  means, 
and  Mrs.  Peters  probably  welcomed  any  way  of  reducing 
expenses.  No  one,  least  of  all  the  heirs  themselves,  ever 
seemed  to  know,  or  be  able  to  explain  what  had  become  of  the 


THE    TENANTS  9 

Gwynne  fortune;  but  it  is  certain  that  ten  years  after  the 
Governor's  death  it  was  almost  entirely  dissipated,  except 
what  was  held  in  trust  or  otherwise  secured.  This  included 
the  house,  which  could  not  be  sold,  as  I  have  been  told;  at 
any  rate  Mrs.  Peters  had  it  for  her  life  rent-free.  I  dare  say 
she  had  pleasant  enough  memories  of  old  days  when  she  was 
a  child  and  played  about  the  pillars  with  her  brothers  and 
Caroline;  she  had  two  children,  two  little  boys  of  her  own, 
and  she  liked  the  idea  of  bringing  them  up  in  what  she  called 
without  the  least  notion  of  being  affected,  her  ancestral  home. 
All  the  Gwynnes  loved  their  dreary  inheritance ;  they  had  as 
great  a  fondness  and  reverence  for  their  name  as  if  everyone 
that  ever  bore  it  had  lived  and  died  in  the  odour  of  sanctity ; 
and  doubtless  regarded  the  house  with  something  akin  to  the 
sacred  affection  of  the  Israelites  for  the  Temple.  I  remem- 
ber Mrs.  Peters  when  she  lived  there,  a  tall  woman  with  the 
thin,   aquiline  features  and   red  hair  of  the  family,   going 
about  with  her  black  skirts  and  solemn  face.  Being  constantly 
treated  by  her  friends  as  a  broken-hearted  heroine,  the  daugh- 
ter of  one  departed  patriot  and  widow  of  another,  I  believe 
the  pose  became  not  distasteful  to  her  as  years  went  on;  I 
have  heard  her  refer  to  herself  in  sounding  and  mournful 
phrase  as  "  the  last  of  the  Gwynnes," — whereas,  Heavens 
knows  there  were  enough  Gwynnes  to  stock  a  colony!  She 
must  have  meant  that  she  was  the  last  of  the  Governor's 
immediate  descendants — and  so  she  was,  excepting  Caroline.1 
It  was  at  this  time  that  I  began  to  know  the  house;  as  I 
think  of  those  days,  I  suffer  a  sharp  return  of  that  feeling 

1  Caroline,  poor  woman,  only  died  the  other  day,  at  nearly  ninety,  I 
think;  she  must  have  outlived  the  "last  of  the  Gwynnes"  upwards  of 
thirty  years. — M.  S.  W. 


10  THE    TENANTS 

which  Mr.   Andrew   Lang  has   somewhere   most  touchingly 
and  truly  called  "  the  heimweh  of  childhood."  When  I  was 
a  young  lady  of  eight  years  or  so,  they  used  to  pack  me  into 
our  elderly  phaeton  and  send  me  out  to  the  country  to  spend 
the  day  playing  with  Gwynne  Peters.  I  wore  my  white  em- 
broidered pique,  with  a  pink  sash;  and  the  brilliant  red-and- 
green  plaid   stockings  in  which  at  that  period  it  was  the 
fashion  to  encase  the  legs  of  little  girls.    All  glorious  without 
was  I;  the  feminine  mind  recalls  these  details  with  a  photo- 
grahic   minuteness.  Gwynne  was   a  gentle  little  boy  about 
my  own  age  and  not  very  strong,  which  was  one  reason  why 
they  asked  me,  a  girl,  to  play  with  him.  Another,  which,  with 
an  elegant  modesty,  I  refrained  from  mentioning  first,  was 
that  Gwynne  was  very  devoted  to  me — I  was  Juliet  in  my 
plaid  stockings !  Romeo  wore  baggy  little  trousers  that  but- 
toned on  a  yoke  about  his  manly  waist,  if  I  recollect  aright. 
I  had  in  my  possession  until  a  short  while  ago — I  gave  it  to 
Gwynne's  eldest  daughter  the  last  time  she  visited  me,  find- 
ing her  screaming  with  laughter  over  it  and  the  other  con- 
tents of  an  old  desk — a  solid  and  rumpled  document  reciting 
that :  "  This  is  to  say  that  i  Gwynne  Peters  do  love  you 
Mary  Stanley,  and  we  will  be  marrid  when  we  grow  up  in 
witnes  whareofF  i  have  sined  this  with  my  bludd  yours  re- 
spektifly  Gwynne  Peters."  It  is  painfully  printed  on  a  leaf 
of  thick  cream-coloured  paper  with  a  high  gloss ;  we  tore  it 
out  of  an  old  photograph-album  we  found  in  the  attic.  That 
was  a  charming  playground,  crowded  with  the  most  fascinat- 
ing assortment  of  rubbish,  that  a  nimble  imagination  could 
convert  into  almost  any  kind  of  stage  "  property."  There 
were  broken-down  chairs  and  tables,  mildewed  old  pictures, 
carpetbags,   bandboxes    covered   with   flowered   wall-paper, 


THE    TENANTS  11 

saddle-bags  and  holsters,  a  round-topped  hair-trunk  studded 
with  nails,  with  mangy  bare  patches  upon  its  flanks  that  con- 
ferred an  air  of  reality  on  it  when  it  figured  romantically  as 
a  horse,  camel,  or  other  beast  in  our  dramas.  We  spurred 
into  Araby  on  that  hair-trunk,  we  fought  with  Moslems,  we 
carted  off  bales  of  treasure.  When  fancy  flagged  we  could 
turn  to  two  chests  of  mothy,  mouse-eaten  old  books  that  stood 
under  the  eaves;  no  one  ever  opened  the  cases  in  the  great 
gloomy  library  downstairs,  notwithstanding  our  pleadings. 
Gwynne,  who  has  always  been  of  an  affectionately  reminiscent 
disposition,  said  to  me  not  so  long  ago :  "  I  should  like  to  go 
back  and  be  eleven  years  old  again,  just  to  read  '  Ivanhoe ' 
the  first  time.  Don't  you  remember?  "    Indeed  I  remembered 
very  well  two  children  huddling  by  the  low  attic  window  with 
the  book  between  them ;  sometimes  it  is  in  the  chilly  twilight 
of  a  winter's  afternoon,  with  eerie  shadows  hovering  in  the 
corners,  and  a  landscape  all  in  sharp  blacks  and  whites  like 
an  India-ink  drawing,  outside;  sometimes  the  warm,  hasty 
summer  rain  switches  on  the  roof;  sometimes  there  is  a  fresh 
chorus  of  birds  beneath  our  window,  and  mating  sparrows  flit 
about  the  chimneys.  "  Hound  of  the  Temple — Stain  to  thine 
order — Set  free  the  damsel !  "  "  Bois-Guilbert,  notwithstand- 
ing the  confusion  of  the  bloody  fray,  showed  every  attention 
to  her  safety.  Repeatedly  he  was  by  her  side,  and  neglecting 
his  own  defence,  held  before  her  the  fence  of  his  triangular 
steel-plated  shield."  "  That's  the  way  I'd  take  care  of  you," 
says  Gwynne,  not  grasping  the  point  of  Bois-Guilbert's  as- 
siduities about  Rebecca.  "  Let's  play  it,  and  we'll  play  the 
trunk's  Zamor,  the  good  steed  that  never  yet  failed  his  mas- 
ter." We  could  be  as  noisy  as  we  chose  in  the  attic,  for  the 
whole    lofty    barn-like    ballroom    beneath    us    intervened   to 


12  THE    TENANTS 

deaden  all  sounds.  There  was  no  other  place  about  the  house 
where  we  were  allowed  to  run  and  shout,  and  even  outside  we 
must  go  decorously.  We  longed  to  play  Robin  Hood  under 
the  beautiful  old  beeches  and  in  the  alleys  of  the  garden, 
but  someone  was  forever  hushing  us.  Mrs.  Peters  would  come 
out  on  the  veranda,  where,  standing  between  the  columns 
at  the  top  of  the  steps  in  her  flowing  black  she  looked  exactly 
like  Medea  in  the  big  steel-engraving  of  "  The  Marriage  of 
Jason  and  Creusa  "  over  the  sideboard  in  the  dining  room : 
"  Gwynne,  my  son,  I  am  astonished.  Don't  you  know  you 
may  disturb  your  Aunt  Caroline?  " 

No  one  every  saw  Gwynne's  Aunt  Caroline.  She  lived  in 
one  of  the  large  bedrooms  towards  the  front  of  the  house — 
a  bedroom  with  iron  bars  at  the  windows.  "  Why  are  those 
rods  there?  "  I  once  asked.  "  It  used  to  be  a  nursery — that's 
a  place  where  they  put  babies,  you  know,"  said  Gwynne, 
flushing  oddly ;  he  had  the  singularly  delicate,  fair  skin  com- 
mon to  all  red-haired  people,  and  a  change  of  colour  showed 
brilliantly  on  his  ordinarily  pale  face.  "  The  bars  were  put 
there  to  keep  them  from  falling  out."  I  was  satisfied ;  it  would 
never  have  occurred  to  me  to  doubt  Gwynne,  who  was  even 
touchily  truthful.  But  Miss  Clara  Vardaman,  the  doctor's  old- 
maid  sister,  who  kept  house  for  him,  overhearing  us,  frowned 
impartially    on    us    both   and    shook   her   head.    "  Gwynne, 

child "   she  began   severely;   then   checked  herself,   and 

turning  upon  me  with  a  severity  even  greater,  in  that  it  was, 
as  I  felt,  unjust:  "You  shouldn't  ask  so  many  questions," 
she  said.  "  Little  girls  should  be  seen  and  not  heard."  This 
was  perplexing  behaviour  in  Miss  Clara,  who,  in  general, 
was  the  gentlest  and  tenderest  of  souls.  She  cried  when  the 
doctor  chloroformed  their  old  cat;  I  think  she  would  have 


THE    TENANTS  13 

cut  off  her  hand  rather  than  spank  either  one  of  us,  although 
we  must  sometimes  have  tried  her  sorely.  She  used  to  invite 
us  in  and  fill  us  with  doughnuts  or  other  deleterious  sweets 
when  she  caught  us  trespassing  in  their  garden.  I  remember 
a  transient  and  rather  resentful  wonder  at  the  pained  look 
on  her  face  when  she  thus  reproved  us;  and  she  was  after- 
wards, illogically  enough,  very  gentle  with  Gwynne,  and  gave 
him  a  notably  larger  share  of  cake  than  mine. 

It  would  not  have  been  possible  to -keep  me  in  ignorance 
forever  about  Aunt  Caroline,  of  course,  but  the  enlighten- 
ment came  with  a  sort  of  ferocious  suddenness.  It  is  one  of 
a  good  many  unpleasant  recollections  of  mine  connected  with 
Gwynne's  brother,  Sam  Peters.  Sam  was  the  elder  by  two  or 
three  years,  a  cold,  surly,  hulking  lad  of  whom  I  was  very 
much  afraid — with  reason,  for  he  used  his  superior  strength 
to  browbeat  and  bully  us.  That  the  two  brothers  should  be 
eternally  at  odds  is  not  surprising;  every  nursery  has  its 
tyrant,  and,  remembering  our  own  childish  days,  we  must  all 
be  uneasily  aware  that  our  youngsters  fight  like  small  savages 
amongst  themselves,  and,  as  in  most  primitive  communities, 
might  makes  right,  and  the  battle  is  generally  to  the  strong. 
Gwynne  had  a  high  spirit  in  his  poor  little  weak  body,  and 
he  invariably  got  the  worst  of  it,  yet  never  gave  in.  Every 
way  but  physically  he  had  the  advantage  of  his  brother,  who 
was  a  dull  boy — and,  I  believe,  liked  Gwynne  no  better  for 
being  cleverer  than  himself.  "  Smarty "  was  one  of  his 
favourite  name  for  him;  I  have  known  him  to  pummel  his 
junior  unmercifully  upon  some  boyish  difference;  yet  he 
would  sometimes  come  cringing  to  both  of  us  for  help  with 
his  grimy  slate  and  pencil.  It  would  be  hard  to  say  in  which 
posture  I  most  disliked  and  feared  him ;  but  I  have  a  fancy 


14  THE    TENANTS 

now  that  there  was  always  something  uncanny  about  Sam 
Peters  in  his  fits  of  stubborn  silence,  of  unprovoked  anger, 
of  repellent  and  fawning  submission.  He  was  most  often  to  be 
found  about  the  stables,  and  when  his  mother's  commands — 
she  had  scarcely  any  control  over  him,  and  he  treated  her  al- 
ternately with  insolent  indifference,  and  with  a  kind  of  wild 
affection — or  the  servants'  persuasions  brought  him  indoors, 
came  scowling  in  upon  our  mild  little  games,  kicking  Gwynne's 
toys  right  and  left.  He  took  away  our  "  Ivanhoe  "  and  kept 
it  for  days,  in  mere  spite,  for  he  was  not  reading  it  himself — 
that  I  could  have  understood  and  almost  pardoned;  but  I 
never  saw  him  with  a  book.  He  invented  various  fantastic- 
ally brutal  ways  of  torturing  the  pet  animals;  and  enjoyed 
beyond  measure  our  frantic  tears  and  expostulations.  Sam 
never  abated  his  tramping  and  whistling  out  of  deference 
to  Aunt  Caroline;  he  stormed  through  the  house  when  and 
how  he  chose,  and  on  Gwynne's  offering  a  remonstrance  one 
day :  "  You  shut  up !  "  said  Sam  coarsely.  "  Aunt  Caroline's 
crazy,  and  when  I  grow  up  I'm  going  to  send  her  to  the  place 
where  they  put  mad  people  so  she  won't  be  a  bother  any 


more." 


Gwynne's  thin  face  went  white;  he  doubled  his  feeble  fists 
and  struck  out  at  his  brother  in  a  blind  and  futile  indigna- 
tion. "  Don't  you  believe  him,  Mary,"  he  gasped.  "  It's  a 
lie !  How  dare  you  say  that,  Sam?  How  dare  you  tell?  " 

The  cook  and  gardener  rushed  in,  hearing  the  uproar  of 
this  battle  and  separated  the  combatants,  or  rather  the  per- 
secutor and  his  victim,  for  Gwynne  was  helpless  under 
his  elder's  hailing  blows.  They  were  old  servants,  for  the 
Gwynnes  possessed  among  other  ill-assorted  traits,  a  faculty 


THE    TENANTS  15 

for  enlisting  the  lifelong  fidelity  and  affection  of  their 
underlings. 

"  My  Lord,  Mr.  Gwynne,  whatever  is  the  matter?  "  said  the 
cook;  she  took  him  on  her  knee  and  staunched  his  bleeding 
nose  with  her  apron.  "  Mr.  Sam,  for  shame !  You'd  oughtn't 
to  hit  your  little  brother." 

Gwynne  would  not  explain  the  cause  of  the  quarrel,  nor, 
for  that  matter,  would  Sam ;  he  went  off  whistling  harshly. 
"  He  said  Miss  Gwynne  was  crazy,"  I  volunteered. 

"It's  a  lie,"  blubbered  Gwynne.  "It's  a  lie,  ain't  it, 
Hannah?" 

"  S-h-h,  you  mustn't  say  that  naughty  word — there  now — 
now,"  said  the  cook  soothingly,  and  she  and  the  gardener 
exchanged  a  meaning  glance. 


CHAPTER    TWO 

MRS.  PETERS  died  rather  suddenly  the  spring 
of  the  Centennial,  year.  That,  or  the  fact 
that  hers  was  the  first  funeral  I  ever  went  to, 
has  served  to  fix  the  date  in  my  memory. 
Gwynne,  who  would  be  seventeen  his  next  birthday,  came 
home  from  college;  Sam  came  home  too,  of  course,  but  not 
from  college.  He  never  showed  much  aptitude  for  learning, 
nor  stayed  longer  than  six  months  in  any  of  the  numerous 
schools  to  which  he  was  sent  one  after  another.  At  the  time 
of  his  mother's  death  he  was  away  on  a  fishing-trip  in  Canada, 
they  said.  The  boys  came  home,  there  was  a  gathering  of 
the  Gwynne  clan;  that  sombre  south  parlour,  dedicated  to 
such  ceremonies,  was  once  more  opened,  the  white  covers 
came  off  the  chairs,  revealing  them  stark  and  stiff  bluish 
rosewood  and  black  horsehair.  Otherwise  the  house  seemed 
nowise  different ;  it  was  never  a  cheerful  place.  We  drove 
out  to  the  funeral  with  Mrs.  Oldham,  who  could  not  afford 
either  to  own  or  hire  a  carriage  herself,  and  was  always  be- 
nevolently remembered  by  her  friends  on  these  occasions.  In 
spite  of,  or  it  may  be,  because  of  a  gift  she  had  of  rich  and 
spicy  talk,  Mrs.  Oldham  was  one  of  the  people  whom  no  one 
ever  forgets  or  overlooks. 

"  Harriet  Peters  would  be  alive  this  minute,"  she  remarked 
"  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Caroline.  Taking  care  of  Caroline  just 
about  killed  Harriet.  Think  of  having  to  live  with  that  in 
the  house  all  the  time !  I  do  think  the  Gwynnes  are  too  funny ; 

16 


THE    TENANTS  17 

anybody  else,  any  other  set  of  people  under  the  sun  would 
have  sent  Caroline  to  an  institution  long  ago.  All  these 
years  they've  talked  about  '  poor  Carrie,'  and  made  believe 
she  was  just  an  ordinary  invalid,  when  everybody  knew,  and 
they  knew  they  knew  that  she's  as  crazy  as  a  loon."  "  Oh, 
no,  she  isn't  that,  you  know,  Kate,"  said  my  grandmother 
mildly.  "  She's  just  melancholy."  "  Fiddle-de-dee,  what's  the 
difference?  She's  as  crazy  as  Arthur;  they're  all  queer,  you 
know  it.  The  Peters  boy,  Sam,  you  know,  is  queer;  Clara 
Vardaman  told  me  so,  she's  known  those  children  ever  since 
they  were  born.  What  do  you  suppose  they'll  do  with  Caro- 
line now?  There's  nobody  left,  particularly,  to  look  after 
her ;  for  all  their  sniffing  around  about  '  poor  Carrie,'  they'll 
none  of  'em  take  her,  you'll  see.  I  suppose  Governor  Gwynne'a 
will  must  have  made  some  provision  for  her — but  then,  no- 
body expected  her  to  outlive  all  the  others.  People  like  that 
always  live  forever  somehow."  Here,  as  we  passed  another 
carriage,  Mrs.  Oldham's  face,  which  had  been  wearing  a  very 
bright  and  lively  expression,  suddenly  darkened  to  one  of 
decent  sadness,  touched  with  satisfaction — that  expression 
sacred  to  the  sympathetic  friends  who  gather  about  at 
funerals.  We  have  all  seen  it,  and,  I  dare  say,  worn  it  our- 
selves, more  than  once.  Mrs.  Oldham  bowed  gravely  to  the 
other  vehicle,  and  immediately  upon  its  passage,  turned  to 
my  grandmother  with  a  lightning  vivacity.  "  That  was  Lulu 
Gwynne — Lulu  Stevens,  you  know,"  she  said.  "  How  old 
she's  beginning  to  look,  isn't  she?" 

I  remember  listening  to  Mrs.  Oldham  with  a  shocked 
wonder;  she  would  not  greatly  surprise  nor  offend  me 
nowadays,  I  am  afraid.  I  have  gone  a  long  way  and  wit- 
nessed funerals  a-many  since  that  day,  and  I  have  learned 


18  THE    TENANTS 

to  know  that  she  was  no  indifferent  scoffer,  but  in  her 
way,  a  good-hearted  enough  woman.  She  even  cried  a  little 
at  the  funeral,  perhaps  recalling  old  times  when  she  and 
Harriet  were  girls  together;  I  thought  her,  so  unsparing 
is  youth,  a  hideous  hypocrite — yet  I  cried  heartily  my- 
self, although  I  did  not  care  in  the  least  for  poor  Mrs. 
Peters!  But  who,  indeed,  young  or  old,  is  not  somewhat 
moved  by  the  brave  and  sad  and  beautiful  words  of  the 
Service?  From  my  place  I  could  look  across  at  Gwynne  sit- 
ting quietly  with  a  weeping  female  Gwynne  on  either  hand, 
and  marvelled  that  he  shed  no  tears.  He  stared  sternly 
ahead ;  and  I  caught  myself  with  shame  noting  that  he  seemed 
stronger,  and  was  plainly  outgrowing  his  clothes ;  his  wrists 
stuck  out  distressingly,  his  feet  were  too  large.  And  Sam — 
was  Sam  "  queer  "  ?  He  did  nothing  "  queer  "  at  the  funeral 
at  any  rate.  Doctor  Vardaman  was  one  of  the  pall-bearers. 
We  all  came  away  as  cheerfully  as  if  it  had  been  a  wedding, 
it  seemed  to  my  severe  young  mind;  I  did  not  know  that 
everyone  is  always  cheerful  coming  away  from  a  funeral. 
The  carriages  trot;  the  hearse-driver  pulls  up  at  a  wayside 
watering-trough;  he  is  a  merciful  man  and  merciful  to  his 
beasts;  by  a  remarkable  coincidence  there  is  a  road-house 
somewhere  in  the  background,  whence  he  presently  issues, 
and  resumes  the  reins,  wiping  his  mouth.  He  hails  a  friend: 
"  Hi,  Joe,  want  to  ride?  "  "  Don't  care  if  I  do."  The  pall- 
bearers exchange  cigars  and  smoke  in  their  carriage.  There 
is  a  gentle  rain  beginning  to  fall;  the  shadows  lengthen; 
people  comment  on  the  fact  that  the  cemetery  is  a  long,  tire- 
some ride  from  town.  And  as  we  roll  along,  Mrs.  Oldham 
enlivens  the  journey  by  sprightly  guesses  at  what  on  earth 
will  be  done  with  all  the  things  in  the  old  Gwynne  house. 


THE    TENANTS  19 

She  would  probably  have  keenly  appreciated  my  oppor- 
tunities ;  for,  being  asked  out  to  stay  with  Miss  Vardaman — 
who,  innocent  old  schemer  that  she  was,  undoubtedly  had  cer- 
tain sentimental  ends  in  view,  regarding  Gwynne  and  me — 
at  about  this  time,  I  was  a  rather  shy  and  reluctant  witness 
to  what  Doctor  Vardaman  grimly  denominated  the  division 
of  the  spoils.  There  was  so  much  coming  and  going  of 
Gwynnes  visible  from  Miss  Clara's  sitting-room  windows  that 
that  simple  spinster,  who  passed  her  life  in  a  monotony  of 
neat  and  even  pretty  little  duties,  became  feverishly  excited. 
She  forgot  the  canary,  neglected  the  doctor's  socks,  let  the 
rubber-plant  in  the  dining-room  languish  for  want  of  water 
while  she  gazed  and  speculated.  It  is  true  that  on  one  occa- 
sion Miss  Clara  retreated  from  her  conning-tower  with  a 
scared,  serious  face,  and  asked  me,  fluttering  a  little,  please 
to  lower  the  shade.  "  We  oughtn't  to  seem  to  be  staring,  or 
to  notice  at  all — it's  awful — awful ! "  she  said  incoherently, 
and  kept  to  the  other  side  of  the  house  the  rest  of  the  after- 
noon. A  closed  carriage  drove  into  the  park,  and  after  a 
space,  drove  out  again — that  was  all.  But  I  knew  they  were 
taking  poor  Caroline  Gwynne  to  "  the  place  where  they  put 
mad  people,"  that  Sam  had  promised  her  so  long  ago.  We 
wondered  under  our  breaths  whether  it  was  Sam  who  had 
ordered  it ;  whether  the  two  boys  had  agreed  or  quarrelled ; 
and  what  the  other  Gwynnes  had  said  or  done.  The  unspeak- 
able isolation  of  insanity  that  converts  a  human  being  into 
a  kind  of  dreadful  chattel  hung  about  Caroline ;  we  did  not 
dare  to  ask  a  question.  Doctor  Vardaman  knew  all  about  it, 
but — "  I'm  afraid  to  say  anything  to  John,"  whispered  Miss 
Clara.  "  He  wouldn't  tell  anyhow,  you  know.  Doctors  never 
do.  Poor  Carrie!  I  knew  her  when  we  were  both  young,  be- 


20  THE    TENANTS 

fore — you  know.  But  she  never  was  quite  like  other  girls. 
Poor  Carrie !  It's  thirty  years " 

By  the  next  day,  however,  Miss  Clara  had  recovered  spirits 
and  interest;  and  when  a  furniture-van  slouched  up  Rich- 
mond Avenue,  and  turned  in  between  the  old  brick  pillars  at 
the  entrance  to  the  park,  she  could  contain  herself  no  longer. 
"  Mary,  come  here,  do  look — you  don't  seem  to  notice  any- 
thing. That's  Zimmermann's  wagon,  I  know  it,  and  I  do 
believe  that's  young  Charlie  Gwynne,  Horace's  Charlie,  you 
know,  the  little  one,  not  Gilbert's  Charlie,  he's  at  Harvard, 
on  the  seat  telling  the  driver  where  to  go.  Nobody  ever 
knows  the  way  out  here.  Now  isn't  that  like  Jennie  Gwynne? 
She  does  just  love  to  boss  and  manage  everybody.  I  knew 
something  was  up  when  I  saw  her  coming  out  every  day — ■ 
she's  not  so  devoted  to  the  boys  as  all  that,  you  may  be  sure. 
She  just  wants  to  tell  'em  what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it,  and 
which,  and  where,  and  when,  and  why — some  people  beat 
everything.  Not  but  what  Jennie  is  a  good  manager,  I'll  say 
that  for  her.  I  suppose  they're  going  to  divide  the  things — 
well,  of  course,  they've  got  to  be  divided,  but  I  do  wonder  if 
poor  Gwynne  will  get  anything  worth  having.  The  boy's  so 
gentle  and  quiet,  he  won't  ever  think  of  speaking  up,  and 
saying,  *  I  ought  to  have  that,  Cousin  Jennie.'  It  would  be 
just  like  her  to — there  goes  another  wagon.  Well,  will  you 
look?  It's  one  of  those  nasty,  dirty  people,  those  Bulgarians 
that  keep  the  second-hand  shops  down  on  Scioto  Street — 
well,  if  that  doesn't  pass  everything!  The  idea  of  selling 
anything  out  of  Governor  Gwynne's  house  to  those 
people — Bulgarians !  It's  enough  to  make  him  turn  in  his 
grave." 

The  doctor,  who  was  a  very  tall,  lean  man,  laid  down  his 


THE    TENANTS  21 

book,  arose,  and  gravely  looked  over  his  sister's  head,  out  of 
the  window  at  the  procession. 

"  I  don't  think  that's  a  Bulgarian,  Clara,"  he  observed 
solemnly. 

"What,  it  isn't?  Well,  John  Vardaman,  your  eyes  are 
failing,  that's  all!  There,  I  can  see  the  name  on  his  ram- 
shackle old  cart.  Am — Am — Amirkhanian — there,  now,  what 
do  you  think  of  that?  " 

"  I  think  he's  an  Armenian,"  said  the  doctor,  with  no 
abatement  of  his  gravity.  "  I  think  they're  all  Armenians — 
Armenian  Jews " 

"  Oh,  well,  tease  if  you  want  to !  Armenians  or  Bulgarians 
it's  all  one ;  those  countries  where  the  men  wear  petticoats, 
and  everybody  drinks  sour  milk — horrid !  The  idea  of  Jennie 
Gwynne  clearing  out  the  house  for  them!  I  don't  see  how 
the  others  can  let  her  run  things  that  way;  I  don't  believe 
she  knows  anything  about  it.  Do  you  suppose  she  has  ever 
heard  that  those  blue  India-ware  plant-tubs,  those  great  big 
elegant  things  were  intended  to  be  given  to  Lucien's  wife? 
Harriet  herself  told  me  she  had  found  a  memorandum  of  it 
it  in  her  father's  desk." 

"  Well,  she  can't  very  well  sell  'em  to  the  Armenians,"  said 
Doctor  Vardaman,  with  an  air  of  profound  consideration. 
"  No  Armenian  that  ever  lived  would  want  to  drink  his  sour 
milk  out  of  a  plant-tub.  And  besides  they  have  holes  in  the 
bottom,  and  he  couldn't !  " 

"  Oh,  you  may  talk,  John,  but  it's  important  for  somebody 
to  remember  all  these  things.  Jennie  Hunter — Jennie 
Gwynne,  I  mean,  ought  to  be  told  that  somebody  besides 
those  two  forlorn  helpless  boys  knows  about  it,  and  she  can't 
have  everything  her  own  way " 


m  THE    TENANTS 

"  Better  not  interfere,  Clara,"  said  the  doctor,  really 
serious  this  time.  And  Miss  Clara  who  knew  very  well  herself 
that  she  ought  not  to  interfere,  was  silenced  for  a  while.  All 
the  morning  she  seethed,  watching  one  van  after  another 
trudge  away  from  the  house,  laden,  apparently,  with  old 
mattresses,  stove-pipes,  and  table-legs ;  for,  such  is  the  irony 
of  circumstance,  that,  let  a  house  be  ever  so  richly  supplied 
otherwise,  these  useful  and  universal  but  singularly  uncomely 
articles  always  occupy  the  positions  of  most  prominence  on 
a  furniture-wagon.  Their  view  fed  without  appeasing  the 
fire  of  Miss  Clara's  curiosity ;  she  exhausted  herself  in  con- 
jecture. And  Doctor  Vardaman  had  not  been  gone  half  an 
hour  on  his  afternoon's  round  of  visits  when  she  called  me 
excitedly. 

"  Get  your  hat  and  coat ;  I'm  going  up  there  right  away. 
You  can't  tell  what  Jennie  Gwynne  may  be  doing.  I  saw 
something  sticking  out  of  the  back  of  the  last  wagon,  and  I 
won't  be  positive,  of  course,  but  it  looked  very  much  like  the 
top  of  one  of  the  mahogany  posts  to  that  big  four-post  bed 
in  Harriet's  room;  they  are  solid  mahogany,  you  know, 
Mary,  carved  all  the  way  up  with  a  kind  of  pineapple-shaped 
thing  on  the  top.  If  Jennie  Gwynne's  gone  and  given  away 
that  bed  that  was  poor  Gwynne's  own  mother's,  I  just  won't 
stand  it,  that's  all!  She  won't  stop  till  she's  stripped  the 
boys  perfectly  bare.  What's  that?  Maybe  it's  being  sent  to 
storage?  Oh,  pshaw,  she'd  never  do  that,  it's  too  handsome! 
For  a  minute  I  thought  it  was  the  bed  in  the  spare-room,  but 
I  remember  now  that  has  helmets  carved  on  top  of  the  posts, 
not  pineapples.  Is  my  bonnet  straight?  You  know,  of  course, 
Mary,  I  don't  think  Jennie  would  do  anything  dishonest,"  she 
added   hastily,   her   kind   old    face   suddenly   perturbed.  "  I 


THE    TENANTS  23 

wouldn't  for  the  world  have  you  think  I  meant  that.  But 
she's  always  run  everything  and  everybody.  I  don't  believe 
Horace  Gwynne  dares  to  say  his  soul's  his  own — why,  you 
know  that,  you've  been  there.  Jennie  just  can't  help  it — she 
always  perfectly  sure  she's  right,  and  she  never  will  listen  to 
anybody,  or  consider  anybody  else's  opinion  worth  any- 
thing." 

It  occurred  to  me  that,  in  that  case,  there  was  not  much 
use  of  Miss  Clara's  rushing  in  with  remonstrances,  where 
much  more  angelically-minded  persons  than  she  might  well 
have  feared  to  tread ;  the  Gwynnes  were  not  a  family  to  brook 
outside  interference.  But,  being  brought  up  in  the  seen-and- 
not-heard  tradition,  I  passively  followed  in  the  old  lady's 
wake.  Miss  Vardaman's  bark  was,  I  knew,  a  great  deal  worse 
than  her  bite ;  and  I  could  hardly  fancy  her  facing  down  that 
ready,  cock-sure,  and  energetic  little  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne. 
In  fact,  as  we  neared  the  house,  it  was  obvious  that  Miss 
Clara's  courage  was  going  the  road  of  Bob  Acres'.  She 
walked  slower,  commented  casually  on  the  beauty  of  the 
spring  foliage,  and  paused  in  an  uneasy  hesitation  when  we 
caught  sight  of  another  lady — not  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne — 
descending  the  steps  with  a  bundle  in  her  arms. 

"  It's  Lulu  Stevens,"  she  said  in  an  undertone.  "  I  didn't 
know  she  was  out  here.  Cormorants!  Harriet  couldn't  bear 
her." 

"Do  you  suppose  I'll  ever  get  home  with  this  thing? ': 
Mrs.  Stevens  greeted  us  cheerily.  The  last  time  I  had  seen 
her  had  been  at  the  funeral,  where  she  listened  as  attentively 
as  any  of  us  to  the  great  and  awful  words  in  which  we  are 
warned  that  man  walketh  in  a  vain  shadow  and  disquieteth 
himself  in  vain;  he  heapeth  up  riches  and  cannot  tell  who 


24  THE    TENANTS 

shall  gather  them.  "  I  came  out  on  the  cars — next  time  I'll 
take  the  carriage.  It's  the  old  French  china  punch-bowl — ■ 
you  know — the  one  that  used  to  stand  on  top  of  the  wine- 
cabinet  in  the  dining-room.  Cousin  Jennie  said  she  thought  I 
might  as  well  take  it,  she  didn't  believe  anybody  else  wanted 
it.  Cousin  Jennie's  the  oldest,  you  know,  and  she  has  so  much 
judgment.  Those  are  those  two  old  cut-glass  decanters  I  just 
wrapped  up  and  put  inside.  Goodness,  it's  as  heavy  as  lead! 
You  ought  to  see  the  house,  Clara,  you  just  ought  to  see 
it!  It's  cram-full  of  everything  under  the  sun,  I  wouldn't 
have  believed  there  was  all  the  truck  in  it." 

"  It  won't  be  there  long,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Vardaman, 
with  unnatural  dryness,  glaring  at  the  punch-bowl. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Stevens,  quite  uncon- 
scious of  any  sarcasm,  which  was  the  last  thing  in  the  world 
one  would  have  looked  for  from  Miss  Clara  Vardaman.  "  It'll 
take  another  week  to  clean  it  all  out,  I  believe,  though  Cousin 
Jennie  is  awfully  quick  and  thorough.  The  old  garret  is 
packed  to  the  eaves,  the  things  there  haven't  been  touched 
for  twenty-five  years.  You  know  poor  Harriet  never  was 
much  of  a  housekeeper.  Just  think,  we  found  eighteen  pairs 
of  old  shoes  stuck  away  in  a  closet — eighteen!  Some  of  'em 
had  rubbers  to  match.  And  there  was  that  pair  of  crutches 
one  of  the  boys  had  when  he  broke  his  leg,  and  a  whole  great 
pile  of  daguerreotypes  taken  in  the  year  One — pretty  near 
everybody  in  this  town — oh,  I  know  it's  perfectly  awful  to 
laugh,  but  you  can't  help  it  to  save  you — old  Mrs.  Duval, 
you  know,  Clara,  in  a  lace  mantle,  and  corkscrew  curls,  and  a 
thing  like  a  tart  on  a  band  around  her  forehead!  And  some 
little  girl  that  I  think  must  be  Sallie  Gwynne  in  pantalettes 
with  a  poke-bonnet — oh,  there're  ever  so  many  we  can't  place 


THE    TENxVNTS  25 

— there's  nobody  alive  now  that  remembers  'em.  There're 
two  or  three  trunks  of  old  clothes,  and  Donald  Peters'  old 
uniform  and  sword,  and  about  a  million  medicine-bottles,  and 
a  set  of  false  teeth — false  teeth!  Think  of  it!  I'd  as  soon 
have  expected  to  find  a  coffin-plate." 

"  What  are  they  going  to  do  with  things  like  that?  "  asked 
Miss  Clara,  shamefacedly  interested. 

"  Why,  Cousin  Jennie  sent  down  to  some  of  those  second- 
hand people  on  Scioto  Street.  She  says  it's  a  great  deal 
better  to  sell  the  things  and  get  a  little  money  for  them 
that  can  be  divided  up  among  the  heirs,  than  to  try  and  give 
them  away  and  have  everybody  dissatisfied.  Cousin  Jennie's 
so  sensible." 

"  It's  a  shame,"  Miss  Clara  commented  in  a  fierce  whisper, 
as  the  other  went  off,  radiantly.  "  That's  that  beautiful  old 
punch-bowl  with  the  deep  gilt  rim  and  wreath  of  roses. 
Daniel  Webster's  had  punch  out  of  that  bowl.  And  I  did 
so  want  Gwynne  and  you  to  have  it  in  your  house — that  is, 
I — I — I  had  set  my  heart  on  Gwynne's  having  it,  you  know, 
my  dear.  Well,"  she  added  reflectively,  making  the  best  of 
the  situation,  "  after  all,  a  good  many  of  the  Gwynnes  have 
taken  to  drink,  so  perhaps  it's  just  as  well.  Only  I  don't  be- 
lieve Gwynne  ever  will.  She  didn't  say  a  word  about  the 
Governor's  law-library.  Well,  now,  Gwynne's  going  to  have 
that,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why !  I  do  think  it  would  be  an 
outrage  to  give  those  books  to  anybody  but  him — Governor 
Gwynne's  only  grandson — that  is,  of  course,  there's  Sam. 
But  if  Jennie  sets  out  in  that  high-handed  way  to  give  them 
to  somebody  else,  I'll  just  let  her  know  I'm  here,  that's  all! 
Mercy,  what  a  noise !  " 

There  was  an  unusual  colour  in  her  cheeks  as  we  climbed 


26  THE    TENANTS 

the  steps ;  her  lips  moved,  rehearsing  the  biting  speeches  with 
which  she  meant  to  confound  Jennie  Gwynne.  That  lady  was 
upstairs  superintending  the  removal  of  one  of  the  enormous 
carved  wardrobes  with  full-length  mirrors  in  the  doors ;  we 
could  hear  her  shrill  voice  pitched  high  in  command,  and  the 
men  grunting  and  shoving.  All  the  doors  and  windows  were 
wide  open,  the  daylight  flaunted  shamelessly  about  the  grave, 
gloomy,  reticent  old  house.  A  constant  bickering  of  ham- 
mers filled  the  air;  they  were  taking  down  and  boxing  the 
pictures.  Half  a  dozen  of  the  huge  line-engravings  that  used 
to  hang  in  an  orderly  row  about  the  walls,  "  Signing  of  the 
Declaration  "  over  one  bookcase,  "  Sistine  Madonna,"  over 
another,  "  Jason  and  Creusa,"  "  C'est  Moi ;  Scene  in  the 
Prison  of  the  Conciergerie  during  the  Reign  of  Terror  " — 
all  these  artistic  treasures,  I  say,  were  down  and  standing 
about  the  rooms  awaiting  their  turn.  The  Governor's  por- 
trait leaned  against  the  white  marble  mantel,  and  you  might 
see  the  dust-webs  festooning  the  space  where  it  had  hung. 
"  Poor  Harriet,  she  didn't  know  a  thing  about  keeping 
house ! "  sighed  Miss  Clara,  observing  them.  In  the  library 
all  the  books  were  piled  on  the  floor,  and  there  stood  Gwynne, 
knee-deep  amongst  them,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  looking  a  little 
helpless  and  worried.  A  youngster  whom  I  recognised  for 
one  of  the  Lawrence  children  was  playing  on  the  floor  in  a 
corner  with  a  quantity  of  those  small  square  flat  morocco 
cases  decorated  with  a  sort  of  bas-relief  all  over  the  outside, 
in  which  daguerreotypes  were  once  enshrined.  Mrs.  Lawrence 
was  haranguing  Gwynne  excitedly,  yet  in  a  subdued  voice, 
with  one  wary  eye  on  the  stairs. 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  say  that  Cousin  Jennie  doesn't  mean 
it  all  for  the  best,  Gwynne,  but  if  she  would  only  consider  a 


THE    TENANTS  27 

little!  She's  positively  insisted  on  my  taking  the  mahogany 
hat-rack  with  the  deer's  antlers  mounted  on  it,  you  know — 
and  even  after  I  said  to  her,  '  Why,  Cousin  Jennie,  I'm  sure 
its  awfully  nice  of  you  to  want  me  to  have  it,  but  I'd  be 
afraid  to  put  that  thing  in  my  house,  the  hall's  so  little,  and 
the  stairs  come  right  down  by  the  front  door,  so  there's 
hardly  any  room,  and  I'd  be  afraid  all  the  time  the  children 
would  fall  down  the  steps  and  put  their  eyes  out  on  those 
prongs — it's  a  perfect  death-trap ! '  Now,  Gwynne,  that's 
every  word  I  said,  and  I  didn't  say  it  in  a  disagreeable  way 
at  all,  I  just  said,  '  Why,  Cousin  Jennie,  I'd  be  afraid  to 
take  that  thing  in  my  house ;  and  I  told  her  on  account  of  the 
children  and  all,  just  as  nicely  as  I  could,  and  she  got  just 
as  mad  as  could  be,  and  said  she  supposed  I'd  like  to  have  the 
handsomest  thing  in  the  house,  the  dining-room  set,  or  some- 
thing like  that,  and  you  know,  Gwynne,  I  never  thought  of 
such  a  thing,  and  I  just  wish  you'd  speak  to  her " 

"  I'm  sorry,  Cousin  Charlotte,"  said  Gwynne,  harassed 
and  weary.  "  I — it's  really  none  of  my  business,  you  know, 
the  things  belong  to  the  estate,  and  I  suppose  Cousin  Jennie's 
the  best  one  to  divide  them — oh,  Miss  Clara !  " 

He  broke  off  to  come  and  shake  hands  eagerly;  he  was 
glad  to  see  us,  I  think.  He  had  grown  tall,  and  older-look- 
ing ;  his  voice  plunged  from  unnatural  heights  to  unexpected 
depths  with  a  startling  and,  I  dare  say,  rather  ludicrous 
effect.  Wouldn't  we  sit  down?  "  It's — it's  all  mussed  up,"  he 
said,  casting  an  anxious  glace  around.  He  called  to  the  car- 
penters to  stop  their  racket;  it  was  warm,  wasn't  it?  He'd 
have  Hannah  get  us  something,  some  lemonade,  wouldn't 
we  like  it?  No,  he  wasn't  busy,  just  packing  books,  he'd  be 
glad  to  rest.  Sam?  Why — why — Sam  had  gone — had  gone 


28  THE    TENANTS 

back  to  Canada,  didn't  we  know  it?  There  wasn't  really  any- 
thing for  Sam  to  do,  you  know.  Cousin  Jennie  was  seeing 
to  everything. 

"  Jennie  has  so  much  judgment,  you  know,"  Mrs.  Law- 
rence put  in.  "  We  couldn't  have  anybody,  any  legal  person 
coming  in  here  to  appraise  and  divide,  that  would  be  simply 
horrid — dear  old  Uncle  Samuel's  things.  And  Jennie  is  a  per- 
fectly ideal  person — so  sensible  and  just.  But  then  we  aren't 
the  kind  of  family  to  have  any  fussing  anyhow." 

("Now  wasn't  that  Gwynne  all  over?"  said  Miss  Clara 
afterwards.  "  She'd  just  been  giving  Jennie  Hail  Columbia! 
But  they  might  fight  like  cats  and  dogs  among  themselves, 
they'd  never  let  an  outsider  know  it.  There's  Gwynne  Peters, 
the  best  boy  that  ever  lived.  He'd  die  rather  than  tell  a  lie, 
or  take  what  didn't  belong  to  him — and  .there  he  sat,  just 
pleasantly  smiling  and  pretending  that  everything  was  all 
right,  when  he  was  nearly  worn  out  with  the  fuss  and 
worry ! ") 

Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne  came  downstairs  in  the  rear  of  the 
leviathan  wardrobe,  ordering  and  exhorting.  As  the  men 
staggered  down  the  front  steps  with  it,  she  turned  into  the 
library.  "  I  suppose  your  Cousin  Charlotte  has  been  telling 
you  about  the  hat-rack,  Gwynne,"  she  began  in  an  acid 
voice.  "  All  I  have  to  say  is — oh,  how  do  you  do,  Miss 
Clara.  Mercy,  Charlotte,  tell  Marian  to  come  away  from 
those  books !  Come  here  to  Cousin  Jennie,  dearie ;  what  have 
you  got  there?  Don't  hurt  that  nice  book." 

"  It  ain't  a  nice  book,"  said  the  child  resentfully.  "  It's 
Revised  Statutes  of  the  State  of  Ohio— it  says:  'Forcible 
entry  does  not  c-o-n-con-s-t-i-constitute  trespass.'  What's 
'  forcible  entry,'  Cousin  Gwynne  ? 


?j 


THE    TENANTS  29 

"  Put  it  down,  dear,  never  mind,"  said  Mrs.  Horace  kindly. 
*  I  want  Gwynne  to  have  all  his  grandfather's  library,"  she 
explained,  turning  to  Miss  Vardaman.  "  It's  only  right,  you 
know.  He's  Governor  Gwynne's  only  grandson — except  Sam, 
of  course.  But  I  said  to  all  the  family  in  the  beginning  that 
Gwynne  Peters  should  have  those  books,  it  would  be  out- 
rageous to  give  them  to  anyone  else." 

Poor  Miss  Clara!  I  could  have  laughed  at  the  blank  ex- 
pression with  which  she  beheld  this  stealing  of  her  thunder. 

"  I'm  sure  you're  quite  right,  Jennie,"  she  said  tamely. 
"  You've  always  had  a  great  deal  of  judgment.  Gwynne, 
dear,  how  did  you  get  that  great  black  bruise  on  your  fore- 
head?" 

"  I  ran  into  something,"  Gwynne  said,  flushing. 

"  Oh,  Cousin  Gwynne,  oh,  what  an  awful  story ! "  Marian 
piped  in  her  sharp  treble.  "  It's  where  Cousin  Sam  threw 
the  boot  at  you  when  he  got  mad  at  you  the  other  day. 
Cousin  Sam  had  a  queer  spell,  I  heard  Hannah  say  so." 

"  Marian !  "  cried  her  mother  savagely. 

"  Hannah's  getting  into  her  dotage,  and  imagines  things," 
said  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne,  reddening  to  her  forehead.  "  I 
don't   know   what   we're   going  to   do   with   the   poor   old 

thing "  They  all  talked  on  desperately.  It  was  a  ghastly 

moment  for  everybody.  The  skeleton  rattled  its  grisly  bones 
in  the  Gwynne  family  closet,  and  there  was  something  fool- 
ishly and  pitiably  heroic  in  the  gallant  effort  they  made  to 
silence  that  hideous  activity.  Mrs.  Lawrence  and  Mrs. 
Horace,  the  one  Gwynne  by  blood,  the  other  by  adoption, 
forgot  their  private  feud  in  the  common  defence.  To  your 
tents,  O  Israel! 

"  You  might  look  over  those  old  daguerreotypes,  Miss 


30  THE    TENANTS 

Clara,"  Mrs.  Gwynne  said.  "  Marian,  run  and  get  them  for 
Miss  Vardaman.  I  don't  know  who  some  of  the  people  are, 
maybe  you'll  recognise  them." 

Gwynne  opened  a  case.  "  This  one  is  all  going  to  pieces," 
he  said,  as  the  little  pad  of  faded  green  brocade  in  the  lid 
fell  out ;  behind  it  was  a  slip  of  yellowed  paper.  "  Oh,  look 
here,  it  has  '  John  to  Louise,  June,  1839,'  on  it,  '  John  to 
Louise' — who  was  that,  do  you  suppose?  " 

u  Let  me  see  it,"  said  Miss  Clara. 

"  Louise  ?  Maybe  that's  Louise  Andrews — she  was  a 
Gwynne,  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence  frowning  in  an 
effort  of  recollection.  "  I  can't  think  of  any  other  Louise. 
Is  there  a  picture  of  her  ?  She  was  a  great  beauty." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  her,  Cousin  Charlotte?  " 

"  Goodness,  no,  she's  been  dead  I  don't  know  how  long." 

"  I  remember  her,"  said  Miss  Vardaman.  "  I'm  so  much 
older  than  any  of  you.  She  married  Leonard  Andrews,  she 
didn't  live  very  long.  Yes,  she  was  very  pretty.  That's 
John's  picture.  Yes,  I  suppose  it  does  look  funny,  but  that's 
the  way  they  all  dressed,  you  know,  in  those  days.  They 
were  engaged  and  then  they  quarrelled  about  something — oh, 
dear  me,  it's  years  and  years  ago." 

"  You'd  better  take  that  picture,  Miss  Clara,"  said  Mrs. 
Horace  Gwynne  briskly.  "  Maybe  Doctor  Vardaman  would 
like  to  have  it,  and — oh,  I  was  going  to  speak  to  you  about 
something.  You  know  I'm  managing  everything  and  it's  an 
awful  responsibility;  I've  counted  all  the  towels  and  sheets 
and  measured  all  the  pieces  of  goods  I've  found — nothing 
ought  to  be  wasted  or  thrown  away,  you  know.  There're  a 
whole  lot  of  medicine-bottles  upstairs,  over  three  hundred — ■ 
do  you  think  the  doctor  could  use  them?  They're  very  good 


THE    TENANTS  31 

bottles,  you  know,  no  corks  of  course — I  thought  maybe  the 
doctor " 

"  John  wouldn't  have  any  use  for  them,  I  thank  you, 
Jennie,"  said  Miss  Clara,  stiffening. 

Gwynne's   eyes  met  mine.  "  The  wistaria   on   the  dining- 
room  porch-  is  going  to  bloom,  don't  you  want  to  see  it?  ' 
said  he,  biting  his  lips. 

We  retreated  to  the  wistaria,  and  both  of  us,  propped 
against  the  dining-room  wall,  gave  away  to  hysterical 
laughter,  all  the  more  violent  because  we  must  smother  it. 
Gwynne's  nerves,  I  think,  were  a  little  unstrung  by  all  he 
had  been   through  the   last   melancholy   week.  "  I — I    can't 

help  it "  he  gasped.  "  I  know  it's  all  wrong,  but  I  can't 

help  it.  They're  so  funny !  " 

We  were  presently  visited  with  retribution  for  our  ungodly 
merriment ;  for,  as  we  stood  there,  an  Armenian — or  Bul- 
garian— gentleman  came  around  the  corner  of  the  house  with 
a  wheelbarrow  heaped  with  the  spoil  of  the  garret,  and  after 
him  another  bearing  on  4his  shoulders  our  old  hair-trunk. 
Hardly  any  hair  was  left  upon  it,  now ;  but  there  it  was  long 
and  low  and  round-topped  with  rows  of  brass  nails  black  with 
verdigris.  It  was  going  away  on  the  Armenian  shoulders — 
going  out  of  our  lives  forever  like  those  childish  days. 
Gwynne  looked  at  me  with  a  rather  tremulous  smile. 

"  '  Ha,  Saint  Edward !  Ha,  Saint  George ! '  exclaimed  the 
Black  Knight,  cutting  down  a  man  at  each  invocation,"  he 
quoted.  "  Don't,  Mary !  "  For  I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  I 
sat  down  on  the  top  step  and  cried  openly,  while  the  boy  tried 
to  comfort  me. 


CHAPTER    THREE 

HEREWITH  began  another  volume  in  the  saga 
of  the  old  Gwynne  house.  After  nearly  fifty 
years  of  Gwynnes,  it  must  now  pass  to  other 
ownership.  The  thing  happens  every  day,  and 
should  be  no  great  tragedy ;  few  Americans  are  born  and  live 
and  die  in  the  same  house,  and  a  building  of  any  sort  rarely 
remains  the  property  of  one  family  for  more  than  a  genera- 
tion. But  the  Gwynnes,  one  and  all,  mourned  aloud  and  re- 
fused to  be  comforted.  Governor  Gwynne's  house,  Uncle 
Samuel's  house,  the  house  that  great  man  planned  and  built, 
whose  hospitalities  had  been  enjoyed  by  the  very  best  and 
highest  in  the  land!  Why,  the  State  ought  to  buy  that 
house!  The  State  was  of  a  different  opinion,  although  the 
house  was  offered  at  a  ridiculously  low  price,  not  more  than 
twice  what  it  was  worth.  None  of  the  Gwynnes,  it  appeared, 
could  afford  to  buy  it  in,  or  even  rent  it,  the  expense  of 
living  there  was  so  terrifying.  At  that  distance  from  town, 
one  must  keep  a  horse  and  carriage,  the  street-cars  being  so 
far  away;  the  care  of  the  park  and  garden  required  one 
man's  whole  time;  and  there  was  the  huge  old  house  itself. 
It  had  at  least  sixteen  rooms,  and  with  its  high  ceilings,  and 
long  rambling  hallways,  took  as  much  coal  to  heat  it  in  our 
winters  as  three  ordinary  houses.  Besides,  it  had — ahem — 
undeniably  run  down  somewhat  during  poor  Harriet's  ad- 
ministration, and  was  in  need  of  costly  repairs.  No,  alack 
and  alas!  the  house  must  be  sold  or  leased — dreadful  prof- 

32 


THE    TENANTS  33 

anation !  The  furniture  was  at  last  cleared  out ;  the  Govern- 
or's portrait  went  down  to  the  State-house,  and  you  may  see 
him  there  at  this  moment,  in  line  with  all  the  rest  of  the  gov- 
ernors, but  in  a  rather  obscure  corner — such  is  the  notorious 
ingratitude  of  republics.  All  the  Gwynne  establishments  in 
town  blossomed  out  with  relics,  brass  andirons,  branch  candle- 
sticks, horse-hair  sofas — people  confided  to  one  another  that, 
on  the  whole,  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne  had  made  a  pretty  fair 
division ;  she  herself  sternly  declined  to  take  anything  but  the 
alabaster  clock  in  the  south  parlour.  That  mausoleum-look- 
ing engine  now  ticks  out  the  time  from  the  middle  of  a  charm- 
ing white  wood  mantel  in  her  eldest  son's  "  colonial "  resi- 
dence. It  long  since  ticked  out  eternity  for  Mrs.  Gwynne, 
as  for  some  of  the  other  friends  we  met  in  the  last  chapter. 
The  Armenians  finally  accomplished  the  dismantling  of  the 
attic  and  cellar;  the  contents,  Gwynne  Peters  once  told  me, 
brought  just  seventy-two  dollars.  "  That  was  a  little  less 
than  four  dollars  all  around,"  he  said  with  a  grin.  "  I  spent 
my  four  on  my  first  box  of  cigars,  and  got  awfully  sick  on 
the  very  first  one  I  tried  to  smoke,  I  remember — as  if  it  were 
for   a   judgment   on   me!"  He  went   back   to   college.  Old 
Hannah  went,  whimpering,   to  live  in  the  country  with  a 
married  niece.  The  windows  were  boarded  up,  the  old  iron 
gates  chained  across ;  and,  for  a  while,  an  advertisement  ap- 
peared in  our  papers,  and,  I  believe,  in  some  of  the  big  New 
York  and  Chicago  ones :  "  FOR  SALE  OR  LEASE— Com- 
modious mansion  built  by  the  late  Governor  Gwynne,  delight- 
fully situated  in  the  suburbs,  within  easy  walking-distance  of 
two  lines  of  cars.1  Large  grounds,  fruit  and  shade  trees, 

iEasy  walking  distance!     It  was  between  five  and  six  squares  on  a  very 
indifferent  plank  sidewalk,  as  I  have  cause  to  know  ! — M.  S.  W. 


34  THE    TENANTS 

stable,  dairy,  etc.  House  of  twenty  rooms  in  perfect  order 
with  all  modern  improvements.  Suitable  for  a  young  ladies' 
seminary  or  summer-hotel.  For  further  particulars  address 
Virgil  H.  Templeton,  Agt.  for  the  Gwynne  Estate." 

There  is  a  peculiar  fascination  in  these  artless  notices ;  one 
may  read  whole  columns  of  such  Paradises  awaiting  tenants, 
every  morning  in  the  journals.  They  are  so  rich  in  promise, 
so  fertile  in  pleasant  suggestion,  it  seems  as  if  a  person  might 
spend  a  happy  lifetime  in  the  simple  pursuit  of  renting  and 
moving  into  them  one  after  another.  But,  strange  to  say, 
for  many  months  Mr.  Virgil  H.  Templeton  piped  and  nobody 
would  dance!  The  causes  of  both  health  and  education  suf- 
fered serious  neglect;  nobody  showed  the  least  anxiety  to 
teach  young  ladies  in  the  commodious  mansion  built  by  the 
late  Governor  Gwynne ;  nobody  wanted  to  establish  a  summer- 
resort  within  easy  walking-distance  of  two  lines  of  cars.  Once 
in  a  while  someone  would  come  in,  get  the  keys,  and  go  out  to 
inspect  the  place;  but  invariably  "they  laughed  as  they 
rode  away,"  like  the  false  knight  in  the  ballad.  It  is  possible 
that  the  disadvantages  connected  with  living  in  it  which  the 
family  had  noticed,  were,  by  some  strange  chance,  apparent 
to  would-be  tenants  also.  Templeton  did  his  best;  he 
placarded  the  brick  walls  of  the  park;  he  changed  and  re- 
worded his  advertisements;  he  even  lowered  the  terms  and 
promised  repairs !  All  these  measures  were  looked  upon  with 
strong  disfavour  by  the  family ;  and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no 
real-estate  dealer  before  or  since  has  ever  come  in  for  the 
share  of  bullying  and  badgering  that  that  well-meaning  man 
received.  The  two  old  Misses  Gwynne,  Arthur's  daughters, 
put  on  their  two  old  bonnets,  and  went  down  to  Judge  Lewis' 
office,  where  the  unfortunate  agent  had  a  desk,  declaiming 


THE    TENANTS  35 

loudly  against  the  vulgarity  of  advertising  their  noble  an- 
cestral residence  in  the  common  papers  where  every  raga- 
muffin might  read  their  names  shamelessly  printed.  "  Want 
me  to  go  'round  and  whisper  it  to  everybody,  I  s'pose,"  said 
Templeton  in  a  rage,  when  they  had  left.  He  was  an  excit- 
able little  man.  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne  visited  him  with  the 
information  that  she,  for  one,  would  never  consent  to  the 
house  being  rented  for  less  than  two  hundred.  "  Cents  or 
dollars,  ma'am?"  asked  Templeton  politely  sarcastic. 
"  You're  quite  as  likely  to  get  one  as  the  other."  Steven 
Gwynne,  as  "  queer  "  a  body  as  one  commonly  sees  at  large 
without  a  keeper — he  was  a  Southern  sympathiser,  and  never 
cut  his  hair  or  beard  after  the  fall  of  Vicksburg — ambushed 
Templeton  in  Judge  Lewis'  own  room,  to  tell  him  roundly 
that  what  was  good  enough  for  Governor  Gwynne  was  good 
enough  for  any  damned  upstart  that  wanted  to  rent  his 
house,  and  that  not  one  square  inch  of  new  wall-paper  should 
go  on  those  walls,  so  help  him,  if  he,  Steven  Gwynne,  had  to 
camp  on  the  doorstep  with  a  shot-gun!  The  judge  witnessed 
these  passages-at-arms  with  mingled  annoyance  and  amuse- 
ment ;  it  was  a  nuisance  of  course,  he  said ;  he  was  minded  to 
evict  Templeton  a  dozen  times — but  how  it  did  enliven  the 
dull  legal  round!  The  Gwynnes  and  their  agent  furnished 
that  jolly  and  kind-hearted  jurist  with  material  for  some  of 
the  best  after-dinner  stories  he  ever  told.  "  By  George,"  he 
used  to  say,  "  it  got  so  that  whenever  one  of  my  clerks  came 
in  and  found  a  Gwynne  lying  in  wait  for  Templeton  and 
breathing  fire  and  slaughter,  he'd  post  somebody  in  the  hall, 
and  when  Templeton  came  along:  '  Hey,  go  slow,  Temp.,  the 
enemy's  poisoned  the  well ! '  and  Templeton  would  shin  for 
the  street  so  fast  you  could  play  checkers  on  his  coat-tail ! " 


36  THE    TENANTS 

The  fact  is  the  poor  old  house  was  going  to  rack  and  ruin 
as  rapidly  as  so  solid  and  substantial  a  structure  could  go; 
the  wonder  was  that  Mrs.  Peters  had  managed  to  get  along 
at  all  in  that  comfortless  monument  to  the  Gwynne  family- 
pride,  but  living  there  was  probably  a  point  of  honour 
with  her,  that  fantastic  standard  of  honour,  to  which 
all  the  race  of  Gwynnes  clung  with  a  fanatic  tenacity. 
No  single  member  of  the  family  could  afford  to  spend 
any  money  on  the  house,  and  concerted  action  among  fif- 
teen or  twenty  Gwynne  heirs  was,  as  their  agent  speedily 
found  out,  next  to  an  impossibility.  The  only  thing  about 
which  they  were  in  entire  concord  was  the  glory  past, 
present,  and  to  come  of  their  name ;  they  saw  desecration  in 
laying  hands  upon  the  torn  and  mildewed  wall-paper,  the 
blistered  varnish,  the  leaking  roofs  of  Uncle  Samuel's  shrine* 
It  would  have  taken  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  dollars  to  put 
the  place  in  order,  at  the  least ;  and  indeed  as  time  went  on,  it 
promised  to  take  more.  The  viewless  forces  of  destruction  in- 
vade an  empty  house,  and  lay  it  waste  like  a  devastating 
army.  "  If  they  would  just  let  me  shingle  the  roof  anyhow," 
said  Templeton  in  despair.  "  But  the  only  one  of  'em  all 
that  has  any  sense  is  that  young  Peters  fellow — not  the 
queer  one,  you  know,  the  one  that's  on  the  ranch  in  New 
Mexico,  but  that  other,  that  nice  tall  red-haired  boy.  Trouble 
is,  he's  a  minor.  You  just  wait  a  couple  of  years  or  so  till 
he's  twenty-one  and  through  college,  and  I'll  bet  he  makes 
'em  all  stand  'round !  " 

The  stout,  excitable  little  man  displayed  more  penetration 
than  one  would  have  supposed  he  possessed.  Gwynne  did  make 
them  stand  'round.  When  he  came  home  on  his  vacations,  you 
might  see  him  prowling  about  the  place  with  a  delegation 


THE    TENANTS  37 

of  unwilling  relatives,  arguing,  explaining,  persuading.  Be- 
ing a  Gwynne  himself,  the  boy  knew  how  to  get  at  his  kin, 
upon  what  side  to  take  them  without  offence.  There  was  very 
little  boyishness  about  his  weary,  anxious,  gently  humorous 
face,  and  the  family  all  knew,  that,  young  as  he  was,  he  al- 
ready had  one  grave  and  bitter  care.  Perhaps  that  made 
them  respect  him ;  there  are  some  people  that  never  grow  up, 
and,  conversely,  there  are  some  who  never  seem  to  have  any 
youth.  When  Gwynne  came  home,  the  estate's  property  all 
at  once  took  on  a  smiling  look  of  change.  Sidewalks  were 
mended  and  shutters  painted;  the  grass  was  cut  in  the  park 
and  the  rubbish  cleared  away;  he  even  got  them  to  consent 
to  putting  a  furnace  in  the  house !  Templeton  went  about  in 
jubilant  relief  at  having  someone  to  share  his  responsibilities. 
"  Told  you  so !  That  boy  has  a  head!  All  Peters  and  mighty 
little  Gwynne,  that's  what  he  is !  " 

In  spite  of  their  efforts,  however,  the  house,  as  Templeton 
pointed  out  with  a  solemn  wagging  of  the  head,  "  was  not 
a  paying  proposition."  Going  away  to  boarding-school  at 
this  time  with  Kitty  Oldham  and  others  of  about  our  age,  we 
heard  and  saw  less  and  less  of  it.  Nobody  of  our  acquaint- 
ance would  risk  the  experiment  of  living  in  it;  it  was  only 
strangers  who  fitfully  came  and  went  as  tenants  of  the  old 
Gwynne  house.  Sometimes  there  would  be  curtains  at  the 
windows,  and  smoke  hanging  from  the  chimneys ;  on  our  next 
return  it  would  be  again  shut  and  deserted.  Those  people? 
Oh,  yes,  they  were  in  some  railroad  position,  and  they've 
been  moved  to  Indianapolis.  No,  no  one  called  on  them,  it's 
so  hard  to  get  out  there,  you  know,  and  they  were  only  here 
a  few  months.  Once  the  tenants  scuttled  out  in  a  dreadful 
state  of  scare,  declaring  that  Arthur  Gwynne's  ghost  came 


38  THE    TENANTS 

down  and  paraded  the  ballroom  o'  nights,  with  his  head  on 
one  side,  and  the  rag  of  sheet  dangling  from  his  twisted  neck ! 
"  I  do  hope  poor  Cousin  Eleanor  and  Cousin  Mollie  won't 
hear  that  story,"  said  Gwynne,  in  concern,  and  painstakingly 
invented  and  retailed  to  them  another  excuse  for  the  sudden 
cessation  of  rent.  Once,  in  the  summer  vacation,  the  Board 
of  Lady  Managers  of  the  Home  for  Incurables  gave  a  lawn- 
party  on  the  grounds  for  the  benefit  of  their  charity.  There 
were  booths  set  up  and  Japanese  lanterns  swinging  under 
the  beeches,  and  a  deal  of  noise  beneath  Caroline  Gwynne's 
windows  where  we  children  had  been  obliged  to  go  so  sedately 
in  the  old  days.  People  who  had  no  carriages  came  in  long 
weary  procession  from  the  Lexington  and  Amherst  Street 
cars — within  easy  walking-distance — bearing  their  contribu- 
tions of  bowls  of  salad  and  chocolate-cakes  shrouded  in  their 
oldest  napkins.  The  house  was  opened,  and  the  ladies  of  the 
committee  heated  coffee  on  the  crippled  old  built-in  range  in 
Hannah's  kitchen.  They  every  one  agreed  in  buzzing  whispers 
that  the  place  was  a  perfect  rattle-trap,  and  they  could  not 
imagine  how  any  people  could  move  out  leaving  a  house  so 
dirty  as  the  last  inmates  had  done.  The  young  men  gaily 
took  turns  drawing  water  from  the  ancient  clanking  pump 
outside  the  kitchen-door,  and  bringing  in  armfuls  of  fire- 
wood. Children  raced  and  romped  with  a  thunderous  uproar 
in  the  big  echoing  rooms.  In  the  evening  there  was  a  curtain 
rigged  between  the  Parthenon  pillars,  and  a  play  was  given 
in  which  Teddy  Johns  appeared  and  sang  the  kind  of  topical 
song  popular  in  those  days,  of  which  I  remember  one  verse: 

"  The  gloaming  one  day  was  beginning  to  gloam, 
That's  all,  that's  all ! 
When  I  heard  someone  say  'The  Incurables'  Home? 
That's  all,  that's  all ! 


THE    TENANTS  39 

He  told  me  of  servants  they  had  more  than  eight, 
And  he  thought  that  the  one  poor  old  battered  inmate 
Must  certainly  live  in  magnificent  state, 
That's  all,  that's  all !   ' 

A  humorous  effort  which  was  received  with  great  applause, 
the  paucity  of  Incurables,  and  the  disproportionate  energy 
of  their  Lady  Managers  being  a  standing  joke  in  our  com- 
munity. Mrs.  Oldham  was  rumoured  to  have  remarked 
acutely  upon  being  applied  to  for  a  donation  to  the  Home, 
that  the  only  thing  incurable  about  it  was  the  idiots  who 
ran  it.  Teddy  sang  and  swaggered  through  his  part  in  a 
very  amusing  fashion ;  he  was  good  at  that  sort  of  entertain- 
ment. The  fete — anything  carried  on  out-doors  was  a  fete 
in  those  days — was  a  success,  netting  the  Incurable  the  hand- 
some sum  of  fifty-one  dollars  twenty-seven  cents,  according 
to  Mrs.  Lewis'  report.  And  the  next  day  everyone  in  town 
was  circulating  the  story  of  how  some  blundering  or  mali- 
cious person  actually  went  up  to  poor  Gwynne  Peters  and 
asked  him  where  Sam  was  and  what  he  was  doing ! 

After  this  the  house  went  again  into  one  of  its  periods  of 
eclipse,  so  to  call  them.  No  one  even  cared  to  look  it  over 
any  more;  and  few  people  visited  the  neighbourhood  at  all 
since  dear  old  Miss  Clara  Vardaman  died  and  the  doctor  gave 
up  practice.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Gwynne  I  believe  the 
house  would  have  fallen  down,  and  he  must  have  had  a  hard 
pull  getting  the  rest  of  them  to  contribute  their  share  of  the 
taxes  and  insurance.  It  was  offered  for  sale  at  gradually 
diminishing  terms ;  they  had  one  chance  to  dispose  of  it  to  a 
German  gentleman  who  proposed  to  convert  it  into  a  place 
of  entertainment  for  the  masses  to  be  called  Silberberg's 
Garden.  Templeton  was  enthusiastically  in  favour  of  this 
plan,  but  figure  the  indignation  of  the  two  old  Misses  Gwynne ! 


40  THE    TENANTS 

Even  Gwynne,  while  he  laughed,  was  a  little  ruffled.  "  Think 
of  a  band-stand  and  merry-go-round  in  the  park,"  he  said. 
"  German  waiters  in  their  shirt-sleeves  dashing  from  the 
house  with  beer-glasses  and  plates  of  wienerwurst,  plumbers' 
apprentices  and  their  girls  waltzing  and  perspiring  in  our 
old  ballroom,  with  a  free  fight  thrown  in  now  and  then  by 
way  of  variety !  And  how  Doctor  Vardaman  would  relish  it ! 
Picnic  parties,  sardine-cans,  paper  napkins,  beer-bottles, 
sentimental  couples  spooning,  band  scraping  and  tooting 
'  Die  Wacht  am  Rhein,'  and  '  How  can  I  leave  thee?  *  under 
his  windows  all  day  long — his  property  would  be  absolutely 
unsalable.  We  can't  do  it,  I  guess;  no,  not  even  for  Sil- 
berberg's  twenty-five  thousand  dollars ! "  I  told  him  he  was 
like  the  Arab  who  wouldn't  part  from  his  steed,  in  the  poem 
at  the  back  of  the  Third  or  Fourth  Reader.  "  My  beautiful, 

my  beautiful "  he  says ;  "  Avaunt,  tempter,  I  scorn  thy 

gold ! "  And,  springing  on  the  horse's  back,  vanishes  into  the 
desert.  Thus  did  all  the  Gwynnes  turn  up  their  noses — in 
the  vernacular — at  Silberberg.  Templeton  was  very  doleful. 
"  You're  missing  the  only  chance  you'll  ever  have  to  get  rid 
of  that  damned  old  white  elephant,  Mr.  Peters,"  he  said. 
"  Why  not  let  the  Dutchman  have  it?  Lord,  what  difference 
does  it  make  to  you  whether  he  turns  it  into  a  beer-garden  or 
a  cemetery?  It's  had  its  day."  But,  for  once  in  his  life,  the 
little  real-estate  agent  was  at  fault ;  for,  on  a  sudden,  without 
notice,  fully  five  years  after  the  house  came  on  the  market, 
when  it  had  weathered  through  nearly  every  vicissitude  known 
to  houses,  and  its  fortunes  were  at  the  dregs,  the  wheel  took 
another  turn — spun  clean  around — came  full  circle,  in  fact. 
Time  and  the  hour  run  through  the  roughest  day. 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

MANY  warm-hearted  people  felt  a  great  sym- 
pathy for  Doctor  Vardaman  in  his  isolation 
and  solitude  after  Miss  Clara's  death;  I  sus- 
pect that  had  the  doctor  been  an  old  maid  in- 
stead of  an  old  bachelor,  he  would  not  have  received  so  much 
attention.  There  is  something  in  the  spectacle  of  an  elderly 
unattached  male  being,  no  matter  how  independent  he  may 
be,  or  how  capable  of  taking  care  of  himself,  that  at  once 
engages  the  solicitude  of  all  his  friends,  men  and  women  alike. 
Everybody  felt  sorry  for  him ;  everybody  wondered  how  he 
got  along.  Doctor  Vardaman  was  a  hale  old  gentleman  verg- 
ing on  seventy,  it  is  true,  but  still  vigorous  of  mind  and  body, 
and  with  pronounced  notions  of  his  own  on  the  subject  of 
diet,  hygiene,  and  the  conduct  of  life  generally.  No  one  could 
have  needed  benevolent  supervision  less;  but  he  might  well 
have  prayed  with  the  antique  worthy  to  be  delivered  from 
his  friends.  At  Christmas  he  used  to  describe  himself  as  blush- 
ing to  his  very  heels  and  retreating  in  shamed  confusion  be- 
fore the  stern  gaze  of  the  expressman  who  unloaded  case  after 
case  of  expensive  wines  and  spirits  before  his  door;  that  he 
already  had  a  whole  cellar-full  partly  of  his  own  collecting, 
partly  inherited  from  his  father,  a  man  of  means  and  dis- 
cernment in  such  matters,  made  no  manner  of  difference  to 
these  eager  and  generous  givers.  If  he  had  smoked  as  dili- 
gently as  a  factory-chimney,  he  could  not  have  vanquished 
the  army  of  cigars  he  received  yearly.  A  centipede  would  not 

41 


42  THE    TENANTS 

have  accommodated  all  the  doctor's  pairs  of  knit  and 
crocheted  slippers ;  he  solemnly  avowed  that  there  were  bales 
of  smoking-j  ackets  and  pen-wipers  stored  in  his  garret.  He 
could  have  paved  his  walk  with  paper-weights,  yet  I  never 
saw  him  use  but  one — a  glass  globe  with  a  remarkable  cameo- 
looking  head  encircled  by  a  wreath  of  flowers  mysteriously 
embedded  beneath  the  surface,  which  Gwynne  and  I,  clubbing 
our  pennies,  had  presented  to  him  the  first  Christmas  after 
we  were  enlightened  on  the  Santa  Claus  subject.  He  used  to 
laugh  and  make  little  jokes  about  his  being  an  "  universal 
favourite  "  like  certain  patent  medicines ;  yet  he  had  a  senti- 
ment for  all  this  trash,  and  would  not  allow  it  to  be  thrown 
or  given  away,  except  when  kindness  took  the  form  of  send- 
ing some  perishable  delicacy  for  his  table,  a  frequent  occur- 
rence after  Miss  Clara's  death,  as  it  was  known  he  had  some 
trouble  in  getting  competent  "  help."  It  would  have  been 
physically  impossible  for  the  doctor  to  get  through  all  the 
aspic  jelly,  mango-pickle,  and  fruit-cake  bestowed  on  him, 
and  he  said  that  it  went  against  his  medical  conscience  to 
give  these  rich  dainties  away,  yet  that  must  be  done  some- 
times. 

I  myself  have  laboriously  carried  out  little  trays  of 
orange-marmalade  tumblers  which  I  am  sure  never  did  any 
good  to  anybody  but  Mrs.  Maginnis'  children,  who  used  to 
come  bare-legged,  with  their  tousled  heads,  freckles,  and  blue 
eyes  to  fetch  the  doctor's  wash.  It  took  no  slight  gymnastic 
ability  to  carry  a  basket  or  waiter  of  such  unmanageable 
articles  as  marmalade-glasses,  change  cars  twice,  and  pick 
one's  way  across  the  ankle-deep  mud  of  Richmond  Avenue,  and 
along  the  wooden  sidewalk  full  of  loose  uncertain  boards,  as 
far  as  Doctor  Vardaman's  house.  On  a  gusty  April  day  with 


THE    TENANTS  43 

a  promise  of  rain  in  the  air,  one  must  go  cumbered  with  an 
umbrella  and  overshoes ;  only  fancy  what  that  was  to  a  young 
woman  clad  in  the  fashionable  costume  of  eighty-one,  to  wit : 
a  skin-tight  navy-blue  silk  "  jersey  "  waist,  a  navy-blue  bunt- 
ing skirt  kilt-pleated  with  a  voluminous  round  overskirt,  and 
a  pocket  with  purse  and  handkerchief  securely  concealed 
somewhere  amongst  the  folds  in  the  rear ;  French-heeled  shoes, 
tan-coloured  suede  "  Bernhardt  "  gloves,  and  a  tremendous 
erection  of  velvet  and  feathers  that  we  called  a  "  Gains- 
borough hat "  over  all !  These  modes  have  mercifully  gone 
out ;  but  not  more,  I  think,  than  the  simple  and  kindly  custom 
of  sending  glasses  of  jelly  about  to  one's  friends;  I  should 
not  presume  to  ask  one  of  my  young  acquaintances  to  per- 
form so  unseemly  an  office;  no  one  either  makes  jelly  or  sends 
it  as  a  present  any  more.  Fortunately  I  fell  in  with  Gwynne 
Peters  on  the  last  lap  of  the  journey,  that  is,  the  Lexington 
and  Amherst  cars. 

"  Here,  let  me  take  that  thing,"  said  he,  and  as  I  thank- 
fully gave  up  to  him  my  burden  of  sweets — my  wrists,  not 
too  loosely  cased  in  the  tan-coloured  "  Bernhardts  "  fairly 
aching  with  the  weight — he  went  on:  "  What  do  you  think? 
I  believe  we've  got  the  old  place  rented  at  last !  Templeton's 
going  to  have  some  people  out  there  this  afternoon  and  I'm 
to  meet  them.  But  they've  been  out  two  or  three  times  al- 
ready, and  he  says  they've  taken  a  fancy  to  it.  The  man — 
he's  a  Colonel  Pallinder  from  Mobile  or  New  Orleans  or 
somewhere — says  it  reminds  him  of  his  old  home  in  Virginia, 
'  befo'  the  wah,'  you  know,  that's  the  way  he  talks." 

"  Are  they  nice?  I  mean — anybody  we'd  know?  ,! 

"  Why,  I  don't  know — yes,  I  guess  so.  They're  Episco- 
palians, they  were  asking  Templeton  about  Trinity  Church. 


44  THE    TENANTS 

I  haven't  met  them  yet,  and  you  can't  go  much  by  what 
Templeton  says — a  fellow  like  that  doesn't  know  anything 
except  whether  people  are  respectable  or  not.  They're  all 
grown-ups,  no  children.  I  think  there's  a  young  lady ;  Tem- 
pleton's  lost  in  admiration  of  Mrs.  Pallinder — told  me  two 
or  three  times,  '  She's  an  elegant  lady,  Mr.  Peters,  very  lah- 
de-dah  manners,  you  know,  stylish  as  she  can  be ! '  Doctor 
Vardaman's  met  them;  but  there's  no  use  asking  the  doctor 
anything,  he  just  grinned  when  I  mentioned  the  Pallinders, 
and  said  he  didn't  doubt  they'd  be  a  great  addition  to  the 
neighbourhood." 

Templeton's  "  livery-rig  "  was  standing  at  the  foot  of  the 
wide  shallow  steps  leading  up  to  the  Parthenon  portico  as 
we  came  in  sight  of  it  from  the  road.  The  shutters  were  open ; 
feet  and  voices  went  to  and  fro  inside.  A  tall  slim  girl  in  a 
red  waist  (it  was  a  "jersey,"  I  thought)  and  hat  came  out 
to  the  carriage  and  gave  the  driver  some  order.  The  agent 
appeared  from  the  back  of  the  house  between  two  more  tall 
people,  a  lady  and  gentleman.  Templeton  gesticulated,  he 
flourished  toward  the  grounds,  he  flourished  toward  the 
facade  of  Doric  columns.  The  gentleman  pulled  his  beard, 
which  he  wore  in  a  long  sharply  pointing  tuft  on  his  chin, 
and  listened  with  his  head  at  an  angle.  "  Jiminy !  I'm  glad  I 
got  that  chimney  fixed ! "  ej  aculated  Gwynne  thoughtfully. 
"  You  know  I'd  like  to  take  away  those  old  iron  stags  and 
things  from  the  front  lawn,  but  Cousin  Steven  would  fall 
down  dead  if  I  touched  'em." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  Gwynne,  somehow  they  seem  to  suit 
the  old  place,  they've  been  there  so  long.  Wouldn't  it  be  nice 
if  these  people  turned  out  really — really  nice,  so  that  the 
house  would  be  the  way  it  was  in  your  grandfather's  time?  " 


THE    TENANTS  45 

"  It  would  so!  "  Gwynne  agreed  heartily.  He  looked  about. 
Some  way  it  seemed  as  if  the  thing  were  not  wholly  improb- 
able ;  the  fresh  hopefulness  of  spring  was  in  the  air ;  pockets 
of  new  grass  showed  an  excellent  green,  the  trees  were  faintly 
rimmed  with  colour.  All  the  thickets  piped  with  birds.  There 
were  Arcadian  vistas  of  many  smooth  mottled  trunks  and 
loftily  stooping  branches ;  the  old  house  with  its  absurd  classic 
front  and  assemblage  of  iron  flocks  and  herds  still  became 
the  landscape  well.  "  It  is  pretty,  isn't  it?  "  said  the  young 
man,  earnestly.  "  I  should  think  anybody'd  like  it,  wouldn't 
you?" 

As  he  spoke,  Templeton,  an  odd  enough  herald  of  good 
tidings,  came  scrunching  hastily  down  the  gravel  drive  from 
the  house.  He  was  too  excited  to  notice  my  presence.  "  By 
gummy,  Mr.  Peters,"  he  exclaimed  breathlessly,  as  soon  as  he 
got  within  hearing  distance,  "  I've  landed  'em !  You  come 
on  up  to  the  house.  Three  years'  lease — you  come  on  up — 
privilege  of  purchase — you  want  to  come  right  up  and  meet 
'em — by  gummy !  " 

Gwynne  came  grinning  to  us  afterwards,  as  Doctor  Varda- 
man  and  I  stood  in  the  old  gentleman's  porch,  to  describe 
the  interview. 

"  I  went  up  to  the  house,"  he  said,  "  and  here  were  Colonel 
Pallinder,  looking  like  the  Count  of  Monte  Cristo,  or  the 
Chevalier  de  Maison  Rouge,  in  a  low-cut  vest  and  a  turn- 
down collar  and  black  string-tie,  and  Mrs.  Pallinder — by 
Jove,  Templeton  was  right,  she's  an  awfully  handsome 
woman,  and  the  youngest  looking,  she  might  be  her  own 
daughter!  She  was  one  of  their  Southern  belles,  I  suppose, 
only  she's  quite  fair,  light  hair  and  a  beautiful  complexion — 
have  you  noticed  her  complexion,  doctor?  " 


46  THE    TENANTS 

"  Mrs.  Palllnder's  complexion  is  remarkably  well  cared- 
for,  I  should  say,"  said  the  doctor  judicially. 

"  Yes,  I've  always  understood  these  Southern  women  don't 
do  much  but  eat  candy  and  fix  themselves  up.  Anyway,  she's 
very  striking-looking,  much  more  so  than  the  daughter.  She's 
a  very  tall  girl,  I  noticed  her  eyes  were  almost  on  a  level 
with  mine — big  black  eyes  and  she  kind  of  rolls  'em  around, 

you  know " 

•    "  What  did  they  have  on,  Gwynne?  " 

He  paused ;  he  meditated.  "  They  were  all  dressed  up,"  he 
said  at  last,  with  the  air  of  one  conveying  a  piece  of  valuable 
information,  the  result  of  close  and  prolonged  study.  Again 
he  meditated.  "  Well,  they  were  both  all  dressed  up,  you 
know.  What's  that  thing  you've  got  on,  that  tight  jacket 
thing — or  is  it  a — a  waist?  Hers  was  red,  with  little  curly- 
cues  all  over  it." 

"  You  mean  it  was  braided?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  it,  braided — they  were  both  all  dressed  up, 
you  know.  Well,  then  Templeton  introduced  us,  told  the 
colonel  who  I  was,  that  is,  and  he  welcomed  me  as  if  I  had 
been  his  long-lost  brother  with  the  strawberry-mark.  Called 
me  '  my  dear  boy  '  right  off — I  don't  much  care  about  that 
sort  of  thing,"  said  Gwynne,  shrugging.  "  But  I  suppose  it's 
his  way.  Everybody  was  very  cordial,  and  there  was  so  much 
hands-all-round  and  hurrah-boys,  you  never  would  have 
thought  we'd  just  met  for  the  first  time.  It's  not  the  way 
we're  used  to  up  here,  but  on  the  whole,  doctor,  it's  rather 
nice — they're  very  interesting  people,  and  they've  got  such 
pleasant  Southern  voices,  and  they're  gay,  somehow,  gay  and 
kind,"  said  Gwynne,  who,  poor  young  fellow,  had  had  little 
enough  either  of  gaiety  or  kindness  in  his  experience  of  life. 


THE    TENANTS  47 

"  The  colonel  presented  me  to  the  ladies  with  the  grandest 
flourish  you  ever  saw,  and  said  he  understood  this  was  my 
ancestral  home,  and  he  knew  just  how  I  felt  at  seeing 
strangers  in  it,  but  I  mustn't  cease  to  look  upon  it  as  my 
home  just  the  same,  and  that  he  hoped  I  would  come  there 
whenever  I  felt  like  it;  and  he  didn't  know  how  /  thought 
about  it,  but  for  his  part,  it  seemed  to  him  there  was  noth- 
ing like  having  a  gentleman  for  a  tenant  and  a  gentleman 
for  a  landlord.  Right  there,"  said  Gwynne,  with  a  grin,  "  I 
might  have  sprung  it  on  him  that  he  was  going  to  have  quite 
a  few  gentlemen  and  some  ladies  for  a  landlord,  but  I  only 
said,  '  The  house  belongs  to  an  estate,  you  know,'  and  some- 
thing about  our  being  so  fortunate  to  have  them  in  it — I  had 
to  say  something  after  all  their  cordiality.  And  he  went  right 
on,  without  paying  much  attention,  '  Ah,  indeed?  '  he  thought 
it  quite  possible  he  might  buy  it,  he  wanted  to  settle  down 
somewhere,  he  was  tired  of  travelling  about,  and  he  had  got 
his  business  in  such  shape  that  he  could  settle  down  at  last." 

"What  is  his  business,  Gwynne?"  interrupted  the  doctor 
suddenly. 

"  Why,  he's  a  broker,  and  Templeton  says  he's  agent  for 
a  big  syndicate  of  Eastern  capitalists  that  have  some  kind 
of  railroad  or  mining  interests  all  over  the  West.  He's  rented 
an  office  in  the  Turner  Building.  I  was  going  to  bring  up  the 
subject  of  repairs,  but  it  seems  Templeton  and  he  had  got 
that  all  settled  already.  Pallinder's  going  to  do  a  lot  him- 
self, about  the  bathroom  and  kitchen,  and  Mrs.  Pallinder 
doesn't  like  the  wood-work  painted  white  that  old-fashioned 
way,  so  they're  going  to  change  it,  grain  it  to  look  like 
quartered  oak  or  mahogany.  I  suppose  Cousin  Eleanor  and 
the  rest  of  them  will  go  into  fits,  and  I  kind  of  hate  to  see  the 


48  THE    TENANTS 

old  white  wood-work  changed  myself,"  added  Gwynne  re- 
gretfully. "  But  if  the  colonel  buys  the  place,  and  I'm  pretty 
sure  he's  going  to  after  putting  out  all  this  money  on  it, 
why,  it  doesn't  make  any  difference  what  they  do  to  it.  The 
whole  thing's  almost  too  good  to  be  true." 

"  It  is"  said  Doctor  Vardaman,  rubbing  his  chin.  "  Being 
agent  for  an  Eastern  syndicate  must  be  a  very  profitable  walk 
of  life — most  people  aren't  so  willing  to  spend  their  money 
on  a  rented  house.  Somehow  or  other  I  fear,  I  very  much  fear 
the  Danai  bringing  gifts.  Did  you  meet  the  old  lady — Mrs. 
Botlisch?  Was  she  with  them?" 

Gwynne  began  to  laugh.  "  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about 
her.  After  we  had  gone  through  the  whole  house,  and  the 
colonel  had  pointed  out  what  he  meant  to  change,  for  in- 
stance :  '  Those  old  mirrors  over  the  parlour-mantels  will 
do  very  well,'  says  he,  pointing  with  his  cane.  '  The  frames 

want  a  little '  'Put  a  lick  o'  gilt  paint  over  the  bare 

spots,'  says  Templeton  in  a  mortal  stew  for  fear  they 
were  going  to  ask  for  something  expensive.  '  That'll  make 
'em  look  all  right.'  '  Exactly — a  lick  of  paint  over  the  bare 
spots,'  said  Pallinder,  listening  politely  and  without  a  smile. 
6  Mr.  Templeton  is  quite  right.'  And  with  that  Mrs.  Pall- 
inder began :  '  I've  been  thinking  I'll  have  the  front  parlour 
on  the  south  side  done  in  peacock-blue  and  old-gold,  Mr. 
Peters.  I  saw  a  lovely  paper  with  the  blue  ground  and  large 
gilt  fleur-de-lys  on  it  downtown  that  would  just  suit.'  Tem- 
pleton  turned   green.  '  Well— er — um — I   don't   know ' 

says  he.  '  Oh,  I'll  have  that  done,  Mr.  Templeton,'  said  the 
colonel — and  this  time  he  did  laugh,  and  winked  at  me  over 
the  little  man's  head.  'You're  a  very  conscientious  agent, 
sir,'  says  he.  'But  don't  worry.  I  wouldn't  expect  you  to 


THE    TENANTS  49 

gratify  a  whim  like  that.  I'll  let  you  into  a  secret,  gentle- 
men, I'm  a  terribly  hen-pecked  man,  and  being  the  only  one 
in  the  family,  the  odds  are  so  heavily  against  me,  three  to 
one,  that  I  always  jump  and  do  whatever's  wanted  without 
any  discussion.'  •  I  guess  it's  pretty  hard  to  refuse  Mrs.  Pall- 
inder  anything,'  said  Templeton,  coming  out  strong  in  a  way 
that  nearly  floored  me ;  the  lady  gave  him  a  sweet  smile,  and 
Miss  Pallinder  laughed  outright.  '  I'm  going  to  have  a  paper 
with  pink  roses  all  over  it,  and  pink  curtains  to  match  in  my 
room,  if  Papa  will  let  me,  Mr.  Templeton,'  says  she,  and 
worked  her  eyes  around  at  him  like  this.  '  Now  can't  you  say 
something  nice  to  me?  '  *  I  would,  but  I'm  afraid  Mrs.  Tem- 
pleton would  hear  of  it,'  said  Templeton,  and  be  hanged  if 
he  didn't  roll  his  eyes  around  at  her,"  said  Gwynne,  writhing 
with  laughter.  "  And  then  you  ought  to  have  seen  Miss  Pall- 
inder laugh !  We  finally  got  around  to  the  kitchen,  and  while 
the  two  ladies  and  Templeton  were  inspecting  the  closets, 
Colonel  Pallinder  mysteriously  beckoned  me  outside.  The 
man  had  driven  Templeton's  hack  back  there  so  as  to  stand 
in  the  shade,  and  I  thought  I  saw  somebody  sitting  on  the 
rear  seat,  but  I  just  glanced  at  it,  for  the  colonel  said: 
'  Ahem — Mr.  Peters,  you  recall  perhaps  what  the  governor 
of  South  Carolina  said  to  the  governor  of  North  Carolina? 
In  my  section  of  the  country,  sir — he  pronounced  it,  6  suh ' 
— we  don't  consider  a  bargain  closed  until  we've — ahem — 
poured  out  a  libation  to — ah — um — Morpheus.'  And  upon 
that  he  fished  out  a  very  handsome  silver-mounted  flask  from 
his  hip  pocket,  with  a  little  silver  top  that  unscrewed  and 

telescoped  into  a  cup.  '  If  you'll  partake,  sir ?  '  says  the 

colonel,  pouring  it  full,  so  we  partook,  I  out  of  the  cup, 
and  he  out  of  the  bottle,  and  I  must  say  if  the  colonel's  a 


50  THE    TENANTS 

poor  student  of  the  classics,  he's  a  mighty  good  judge 
of  whiskey,"  said  Gwynne,  with  all  the  air  of  a  connoisseur. 
"  Only  it  was  a  pretty  stiff  drink.  I  believe  my  moustache 
smells  of  it  this  minute,"  he  added  with  concern,  fingering 
that  exiguous  growth  tenderly.  "  While  we  were  6  partak- 
ing,' somebody  snorted  out  so  suddenly  that  we  both  jumped 
and  nearly  dropped  the  sacrificial  vessels,  '  Say,  Billie,  I 
don't  mind  if  I  do  myself.  It's  pretty  dry  work  settin'  out 
here.'  And  I  looked  and  saw  the  old  woman  leaning  out  of  the 
carriage "  Gwynne  paused,  and  eyed  the  doctor  inquir- 
ingly. 

"Mrs.  Botlisch?" 

"  Mrs.  Botlisch.  Doctor  Vardaman,  how — in — thunder, 
now — how — in — thunder  do  you  suppose  they  came  to  have 
that— that ?" 

"  She's  Mrs.  Pallinder's  mother,  I  believe,"  said  the  old 
gentleman. 

"  Yes,  I  know,  the  colonel  introduced  us  right  off,  and 
handed  over  the  flask  and  cup  just  as  if  it  were  the  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world.  *  Here's  how,  bub ! '  the  old 
woman  said,  winked  at  me,  turned  the  whiskey  off  like  an 
expert,  handed  the  things  back,  and  wiped  her  mouth  on  the 
back  of  her  hand.  Mrs.  Pallinder's  mother!  It's  incon- 
ceivable! Doctor,  I  swear  you  could  have  knocked  me  down 
with  a  straw.  The  Pallinders  don't  seem  to  make  anything 
of  it — but  that  pretty,  delicate-featured  woman,  and  that 
slender  spirited-looking  girl,  both  of  them  so  beautifully 
dressed,  and  their  manners  really  charming,  Doctor — a  little 
different  from  what  one  sees  ordinarily,  maybe,  but  charming 
for  all  that!  Why,  the  old  woman  might  be  their  cook — I 
can't  understand  it !  They  take  it  just  as  a  matter  of  course." 


THE    TENANTS  51 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  how  else  you'd  have  them  take  it," 
said  the  doctor.  "  She's  Mrs.  Pallinder's  mother,  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  it.  But  Mrs.  Pallinder  did  say  something  to 
me  about  the  old  lady  being  '  queer  ' — eccentric,  as  she  put 
it.  That's  like  charity — it  covers  a  multitude  of  strange 
doings." 

"  Yes,  '  queer  *  accounts  for  a  good  deal,"  said  Gwynne, 
his  face  sobering.  Doctor  Vardaman  looked  at  him  with  re- 
gretful tenderness.  He  walked  with  us  as  far  as  the  street, 
and  patted  Gwynne's  shoulder  gently  as  we  parted — an 
unusual  display  of  feeling  from  the  doctor,  who  was  anything 
but  a  demonstrative  man. 


CHAPTER    FIVE 

DOCTOR  VARDAMAN'S  house  was  called,  in  the 
day  when  it  was  built,  a  Swiss  cottage.  It  was 
a  story  and  a  half  high,  with  a  steep-pitched 
roof,  garnished  with  a  kind  of  scalloped  wooden 
lambrequin  pendant  from  the  eaves  all  around.  There  were 
casement-windows  with  arched  tops,  and  the  whole  edifice  was 
painted  a  dark  chocolate-brown  in  accordance,  no  doubt, 
with  the  best  Swiss  models — at  least  we  never  questioned  the 
taste  of  it.  It  is  possible  that  the  charming  and  faithful 
Swiss  cottage  of  to-day  may  be  as  much  of  an  offence  to 
the  landscape  in  twenty-five  years — so  does  the  old  order 
change,  giving  place  to  new.  Yet  it  will  always  be  true  that 
a  house  derives  some  curious  character  from  its  tenant;  the 
doctor  redeemed  his  cottage;  he  was  the  soul  of  that  misbe- 
gotten body.  It  was  shabby  and  down-at-heel,  if  you  like, 
but  it  was  not  bourgeois.  There  was  a  charm  in  his  unkempt 
garden,  in  the  slouching  ease  of  his  worn  old  furniture  and 
carpets,  his  multitudinous  loose-backed  books,  his  dim  family 
portraits  in  chipped  gilt  frames.  He  met  all  hints  at  altera- 
tion or  renewal  with  an  indulgent  ridicule.  "  Fresh  paint  ?  " 
he  said.  "  It  would  make  the  house  look  like  a  servant-girl 
dressed  for  Sunday !  "  Or :  "  Better  is  a  horse-hair  sofa  with 
brass  nails  than  a  plush  platform-rocker  and  veneering  there- 
with!" When  the  Pallinders  moved  in,  trailing  a  procession 
rich  as  Sheba's  past  his  little  iron  gate,  the  doctor  viewed  it 
with  an  indecipherable  smile.  It  was  in  April,  a  day  of  light 

52 


THE    TENANTS  53 

gusty  winds,  flashes  of  sunshine  and  flashes  of  rain;  and 
Doctor  Vardaman,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  was  trowelling  amongst 
his  young  plants  with  what  he  frequently  denounced  as  a 
frantic  and  futile  energy.  "  I  don't  know  why  I  do  it,"  he 
would  say  soberly.  "  Nothing  ever  grows  the  better  for  it ; 
very  often  nothing  grows  at  all.  The  Irishman,  the  negro, 
the  very  Chinaman  whom  for  my  sins  I  am  constrained  to  em- 
ploy about  the  house,  have  achieved  triumphs  in  the  way  of 
lilies  of  the  valley  and  young  onions  that  leave  me  gasping 
in  defeat.  They  are  ignorant,  unwashed,  dissolute  pagans. 
Ling  Chee  was  a  spectre  soaked  in  opium ;  Erastus  absconded 
with  all  my  clothes,  my  most  cherished  razors,  and  whatever 
money  he  could  get  at — yet  they  had  but  to  scratch  the 
ground  and  lo,  the  desert  blossomed  like  the  rose!  You  may 
see  therein  the  constant  allegory  of  Vice  ascendant  and  un- 
rewarded Virtue." 

He  leaned  on  his  spade  in  an  ironically  rustic  attitude  to 
watch  the  Pallinder  household  goods  go  by — goods,  not  gods, 
for  everything,  as  he  observed,  was  of  a  transcendant  and 
sparkling  newness.  Most  of  us  live  in  unacknowledged  bond- 
age to  certain  kind,  familiar,  sooty,  and  begrimed,  utterly 
useless  hearthstone  deities.  We  cling  shamefaced  to  our 
rickety  old  relics.  The  pair  of  vases  that  used  to  stand  on 
mother's  mantelpiece — hideous  things  they  are,  too, — the 
little  high  chair  that  was  Johnny's — he  died  in  '87,  you  re- 
member— who  has  not  seen  this  pathetic  lumber  voyaging 
helplessly  about  from  house  to  apartment,  from  town  to 
country  and  back  again,  hobnobbing  peaceably  on  the  rear 
of  the  wagon  with  flower-stands  and  the  gas-range,  retiring 
at  last  to  the  garret,  but  somehow  never  getting  as  far  as 
the  junk-shop?    Sunt  lacrimce  rerum — as  Doctor  Vardaman 


54  THE    TENANTS 

would  have  said,  being  somewhat  given  to  Latin  tags  after 
the  taste  of  an  older  generation.  His  own  house  was  crowded 
with  these  touching  reminders ;  the  Pallinders  went  to  the 
other  extreme;  either  they  sternly  repressed  the  mushy  senti- 
mentalism  that  would  cherish  outworn  sticks  and  stoneware 
for  the  sake  of  auld  lang  syne,  or  they  never  had  had  any  to 
cherish.  "  They  brought  nothing  into  the  town  with  them, 
and  it  is  certain  they  took  nothing  away,"  said  the  doctor 
afterwards  in  an  awful  and  irreverent  parody.  An  aroma  of 
fresh  packing-stuff  and  varnish  hung  about  the  caravan ; 
bright  new  mirrors  swayed  and  glanced ;  and,  since  the 
fashions  of  eighty-one  were  more  or  less  flamboyant,  you 
might  see  from  afar  the  roses,  poppies,  and  what-not  that 
bloomed  upon  the  Pallinder  rolls  of  new  carpet,  the  gilt  and 
veneered  scrolls,  knobs,  and  channellings  of  the  Pallinder 
furniture,  the  Pallinder  Tennessee-marble  table-tops,  care- 
fully boxed,  yet — as  one  may  say  in  a  figure — hallooing 
aloud  for  admiration  of  their  size  and  costliness.  There 
was  one  van  filled  with  hogsheads  packed  with  china ;  it  was 
whispered  that  many  of  the  things  had  been  ordered  from 
New  York,  but  most  of  them  were  got  in  town  at  prices  that 
kept  the  shop-keepers  smiling  until  their  bills  were  sent  in 
— I  am  anticipating.  The  doctor  espied  the  ladies  in  a 
carriage  at  the  end,  and  bowed  with  the  rather  exuberant 
courtesy  taught  in  his  youth. 

Miss  Pallinder  returned  the  salutation;  Mrs.  Botlisch 
shouted  a  jovial  "  Howdy,  Doc. !  "  Mrs.  Pallinder  drew  back 
impulsively  in  a  momentary  embarrassment ;  she  emerged 
almost  instantly  and  recognised  him,  triumphantly  gracious. 
But  the  doctor  resumed  his  digging,  inscrutably  grinning  at 
the  next  shovelful.  The  fact  is,  this  casual  passage  vividly 


THE    TENANTS  55 

recalled  his  first  encounter  with  these  ladies  a  few  weeks 
earlier,  upon  one  of  the  occasions  when  they  had  driven  out 
to  inspect  the  Gwynne  house,  before  the  bargain  was  closed. 
Doctor  Vardaman,  in  a  sleeve-waistcoat,  for  the  day  was 
cold,  was  busily  spading  up  his  beds,  when  a  carriage  drew 
in  beside  the   iron  palings. 

"  I  looked  up,"  the  old  gentleman  used  thus  to  recount  the 
incident,  "  and  saw  an  exceedingly  homely  old  woman  with  her 
bonnet  awry;  a  moderately  good-looking  young  one  with 
hers  as  straight  as  Nature  intended  it,  and  the  rest  of  her 
clothes,  so  far  as  a  man  may  judge,  directly  calculated  to 
inspire  all  other  women  with  despairing  envy;  and  a  very 
uncommonly  handsome  middle-aged  one,  whose  clothes  made 
positively  no  difference  at  all,  so  much  did  her  looks  eclipse 
them.  I  saw  all  these  people  craning  out  of  their  carriage,  I 
say,  and  in  the  distance  a  cavalier  on  horseback  dashing 

along  after  them  in  a  military  style.  '  Say,  you '  began 

the  homely  old  one.  '  My  good  man,'  says  the  middle-aged 
one,  with  an  ineffable  sweet  patronage  in  her  tone.  'Will 

you  take  this  card  in  to  your  master  and  tell  him '  And  at 

that  moment  up  comes  the  outrider.  He  took  me  in  at  a 
glance,  jumped  off  his  horse,  splashed  through  the  mud,  un- 
covered with  a  very  gallant  and  engaging  deference  to  my 
years,  and:  'Doctor  Vardaman?'  says  he.  '  I'm  sure  this  is 
Doctor  Vardaman,  I'm  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance. 
We're  going  to  be  your  neighbours,  I  hope,  and  by  gad,  sir, 
you  set  us  a  good  example!  We  find  you  like — ah — urn — 
Quintilius  among  his  cabbages.  Sir,  my  name  is  Pallinder; 

let  me  present '  the  fellow's  manner  was  perfect ;  for  the 

soul  of  me  I  couldn't  help  warming  to  him.  And  if  you  think 
it's  a  poor  sort  of  gratification  to  be  known  for  a  gentleman, 


56  THE    TENANTS 

consider  how  very  uncomplimentary  it  is  to  be  taken  for  a 
servant !  *  Lord — ee,  Bill ! '  screeched  out  the  old  woman. 
'  Mirandy  thought  he  was  th'  hired  man !  That's  one  on 
you,  Mirandy !  Called  him  c  my  good  man,'  she  did !  "  and 
went  into  a  choking  and  gurgling  fit  of  laughter.  Mrs. 
Pallinder's  face  turned  purple.  '  Madame,'  says  I,  anxious 
to  relieve  an  unpleasant  situation.  6  I  answer  to  the  noun, 
but  I'm  a  little  doubtful  about  the  adjective!'  We  parted 
in  the  end  with  great  protestations  on  both  sides ;  but  Mrs. 
Pallinder  was  still  red  as  they  drove  off.  Sir,  she  had  made  a 
mistake,  and  she  never  would  forgive  me  for  it ! " 

This  was  the  first  appearance  of  the  Pallinder  family  upon 
our  stage.  They  had  figured  brilliantly  on  a  good  many 
others  already,  as  was  discovered  some  two  years  later,  when 
occurred  their  exit;  San  Francisco,  Denver,  Chicago,  Louis- 
ville, to  say  nothing  of  a  score  of  minor  cities  knew  them, 
birds  of  passage.  I  believe  they  came  from  Memphis  in  the 
beginning,  that  is,  if  they  can  be  said  to  have  come  from 
anywhere,  or  been  native  to  any  place.  They  were  emphati- 
cally citizens  of  the  world  and  called  all  skies  home.  I  find, 
upon  comparing  recollections  with  friends  of  those  days 
that  the  measures  by  which  the  Pallinders  established  them- 
selves in  our  society  are,  in  that  phrase  dear  to  the  sedate  his- 
torian of  far  weightier  matters,  shrouded  in  the  mists  of — of 
antiquity,  the  historian  would  say.  Yet  it  is  only  twenty-five 
years,  and  no  one  now  remembers,  or  perhaps  took  note  at  the 
time,  exactly  how  these  people  who  came  from  everywhere 
and  nowhere,  whom  nobody  knew,  got  themselves  in  the  space 
of  six  months,  known,  liked,  and  invited  far  and  wide.  I  fear 
that  solid  unornamental  worth  such  as — let  us  be  frank — 
yours  or  mine,  would  not  have  accomplished  so  much  in  as 


THE    TENANTS  57 

many  years.  Mrs.  Pallindcr  must  have  done  a  deal  of  social 
campaigning  in  those  other  centres  of  enlightenment  and 
culture  which  I  have  mentioned,  to  have  become  so  apt  and 
able;  that  little  slip  with  Doctor  Vardaman  was  the  only 
one  I  ever  heard  recorded  against  her.  She  never  referred  to 
her  life  and  acquaintance  elsewhere,  nor  traded  upon  her  ex- 
periences to  advance  herself  with  us;  yet  she  never  seemed 
to  be  pushing.  She  built,  as  it  were,  from  the  ground;  and 
I  have  heard  very  kind  and  intelligent  persons  who  were 
not  in  the  least  snobs,  comment  with  astonishment  on  the 
headway  she  contrived  to  make  coming  wholly  unknown  as 
she  did,  and  handicapped  by  such  a  mother.  The  spectacle 
of  wealth  allied  to  feminine  beauty,  talent,  and  virtue, 
struggling  for  notice  is  one  with  which  we  are  all  tolerably 
familiar. 

It  is  likely  that  prehistoric  woman  in  the  jungle — 
not  prehistoric  man,  for  man  seems  always  to  have  been  a 
creature  slothful  in  social  duties,  dull,  and  democratic  in  his 
tastes — demurred  at  mingling  with  the  same  set  as  the 
jungle-lady  next  door;  would  not  allow  the  children  to  play 
with  the  little  cave-dwellers  across  the  way ;  wanted  to  move 
to  the  choice  and  exclusive  neighbourhood  of  the  Probably- 
Arboreals,  where  she  would  have  better  opportunities  for 
meeting  those  elect  gentry.  Nowadays,  her  grand-daughter 
goes  to  church  with  a  praiseworthy  devotion,  she  subscribes 
to  all  the  charities,  she  sends  her  children  to  the  most  fashion- 
able schools — they  are  always  the  best — she  takes  courses 
in  French  literature,  in  Current  Events,  in  bridge-playing,  in 
cooking,  yes,  she  would  take  them,  decent  woman  as  she 
is,  in  bare-back  riding  and  ballet  dancing,  in  everything  and 
anything  under  the  sun,  that  will  bring  her  into  contact  with 


58  THE    TENANTS 

the  charmed  circle.  She  endures  unnumbered  snubs,  or  what 
is  worse,  the  soul-blighting  frigid  politenesses  of  present-day 
Probably-Arboreals ;  she  sheds  tears  in  secret,  she  nearly 
drives  her  husband  to  drink,  or  the  poorhouse.  And  she 
"  gets  there,"  she  always  gets  there,  and  gleefully  proceeds 
to  visit  upon  the  next  aspirant  some  of  the  treatment  she  her- 
self received.  The  strange  thing  is  that  you,  who  have  been 
"  there "  all  your  life,  who  cannot  understand  her  frantic 
desires,  who  are  disposed  to  laugh  or  sneer  at  her,  you  will 
find  her  no  hustling  and  elbowing  vulgarian  as  you  imagined, 
but  a  very  charming  woman,  as  clever  and  well  bred  as  you  or 
any  of  your  native-born  residents  of  the  purple.  She  only 
wanted  to  get  "  there  " ;  already  she  has  forgot  that  mean 
struggle.  As  high-minded  as  you  are,  you  too  must  at  least 
a  little  admire  Success;  and  she  has  displayed  as  much 
courage  and  perseverance  on  her  shabby  battlefield  as  it  takes 
to  conquer  a  citadel. 

All  this  is  by  way  of  calling  attention  to  the  really  re- 
markable fact  that  Mrs.  Pallinder  employed  none  of  the 
tactics  just  recited;  classes  in  bridge  and  Current  Events 
were  unknown  in  her  day,  and  she  went  to  church  neither 
more  nor  less  than  other  people.  She  succeeded,  I  make  bold 
to  say,  as  no  one  ever  has  before  or  since.  And  this,  in  spite 
of  the  rather  unfavourable  impression  which  she  and  her 
daughter  had  made  at  the  start.  I,  for  one,  did  not  much 
fancy  Gwynne's  description  of  Miss  Pallinder — her  name 
was  Mazie — ogling  and  making  fun  with  a  man  like  Temple- 
ton  ;  I  thought  her  behaviour  distinctly  common.  And  that 
business  of  taking  Gwynne  behind  the  house  for  a  drink  of 
whiskey — out  of  the  bottle,  at  that! — which  does  not  shock 
me  at  all  now,  was  anathema  in  my  eyes  then.  These  opinions 


THE    TENANTS  59 

were  shared  by  everybody  who  heard  the  circumstances ;  what 
made  us  change  our  minds?  That  is  the  mystery.  I  think 
now  that  the  Pallinders  won  upon  us  by  that  very  frank 
gaiety  and  kindliness  that  had  so  touched  and  attracted 
Gwynne;  nothing  else  can  account  for  their  popularity.  Of 
course  at  the  end  of  their  stay  everyone  simultaneously  dis- 
covered a  number  of  disagreeable  things;  the  usual  wise- 
acres went  about  uttering  the  usual  wisdom  of  "  I-told-you- 
so."  Colonel  Pallinder  had  always  been  a  man  to  distrust; 
Mrs.  Pallinder  and  her  daughter  undeniably  painted  and 
were  too  lively  in  their  manners;  there  was  more  poker  and 
mint-julep  going  freely  behind  the  Parthenon  portals  than 
one  ever  saw  in  the  best  houses ;  and  Mrs.  Botlisch  was  per- 
fectly intolerable.  To  be  just,  however,  no  one  had  ever  pre- 
tended to  think  Mrs.  Botlisch  other  than  intolerable;  some 
people  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  was  greatly  to  the 
Pallinders'  credit  that  they  did  not  shake  off  that  terrific 
social  drawback  altogether. 

The  colonel  was  a  big  man,  with  thick  flowing  grey  hair 
under  a  wide-brimmed  soft  hat ;  he  wore  his  clothing  with  a 
slashing  military  picturesqueness — d'Artagnan  in  a  long- 
skirted  black  broadcloth  coat;  and  limped  a  little  from  a 
bullet  in  the  thigh  at  Missionary  Ridge.  He  had  a  handsome 
office  downtown,  and  was  always  enthusiastically  busy  over 
the  syndicate's  affairs;  maps  of  railroads,  of  iron,  salt,  coal 
and  "  phosphate "  territory  in  Arkansas  and  elsewhere 
adorned  his  walls;  circulars  and  prospectuses  gushed  forth 
from  his  place  of  business  as  from  a  living  fountain.  Who 
went  up  and  drank  at  that  sempiternally  flowing  spring — 
who,  in  plain  language,  invested  with  Colonel  Pallinder? 
Nobody  knew ;  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  investment  with  him 


60  THE    TENANTS 

paid ;  the  Pallinders  lived  in  the  spacious  ease  of  an  unlimited 
income. 

I  suppose  his  profession  was  that  of  promoting — a 
pursuit  which  has  since  been  compactly  described  to  me  as 
selling  you  a  cullender  for  a  wash-basin.  Socially  he  took  no 
hand  beyond  inviting  young  men  to  the  house,  and  within 
an  incredibly  short  time  he  did  not  even  have  occasion  for 
that.  They  went,  of  their  own  motion,  in  droves,  like  all  the 
rest  of  the  world.  And  I  will  say  here,  speaking  for  our 
youth,  that  in  spite  of  the  cards  and  cigarettes  and  cham- 
pagne, the  over-eating  and  over-drinking,  the  general  lax 
gaiety  of  that  meteoric  two  years,  I  do  not  believe  any  of 
us  were  materially  harmed.  We  sincerely  liked  the  Pallinders ; 
we  did  not  merely  hanker  for  their  flesh-pots.  And  even 
now,  after  twenty-five  years,  and  knowing  all  the  mean  and 
dingy  side  of  their  career,  I  still  cherish  a  fondness  for 
those  hearty,  happy,  self-indulgent,  irresponsible  adven- 
turers. 

The  old  Gwynne  house  now  underwent  a  transformation 
the  nature  and  extent  of  which  can  best  be  realised  when  it 
is  learned  that  poor  old  Caroline  Gwynne's  room  became  Miss 
Mazie  Pallinder's ;  the  roses  of  Mazie's  wall-paper  climbed  all 
over  that  tragic  apartment ;  lace-edged  muslins  and  flowered 
cretonne  festooned  the  windows.  What  with  a  pillar  obscur- 
ing the  east  window,  and  a  heavy  growth  of  wistaria  matted 
on  a  frame  in  front  of  the  south,  you  had  to  feel  your  way 
about  at  broad  noon;  and  were  liable  to  be  suddenly  as- 
saulted on  the  tenderest  part  of  the  shins  or  ankles  by  some 
dastardly  rocking-chair,  lurking  in  the  gloom  like  a  Thug, 
and  inadvertently  set  in  motion.  Surprises  were  pretty  fre- 
quent in  that  room ;  it  was  not  unusual  to  put  your  foot  down 


THE    TENANTS  61 

in  a  box  of  chocolate-cream  drops  or  through  the  parchment 
vitals  of  Mazie's  banjo  abandoned  on  the  floor.  And  when  you 
came  face  to  face  with  a  pale  glimmering  phantom  in  a  corner 
it  might  be  either  your  own  figure  reflected  in  one  of  the  full- 
length  mirrors  liberally  distributed  around  the  walls,  or  Miss 
Pallinder  herself  in  an  embroidered  French  night-dress,  her 
favourite  afternoon  wear.  The  other  decorations  were  mostly 
photographs  of  Mazie  in  an  astounding  variety  of  costumes, 
and  her  numberless  real  or  supposed  conquests.  Young  men 
in  regimentals,  army  or  navy ;  young  men  in  fancy  dress, 
striking  attitudes  with  a  sword,  or  making  a  leg  in  silk 
tights ;  young  men  with  the  painfully  close-fitting  trousers 
and  upright  brush  of  hair  fashionable  in  the  eighties — it  was 
a  noble  array,  that  gallery  of  Mazie's,  particularly  when  she 
began  to  enrich  it  with  certain  more  familiar  likenesses. 
There  you  might  see  "  J.  B."  Taylor — everybody  called  him 
"  J.  B." — with  the  cap  and  gown  he  had  worn  at  his  last 
Commencement ;  Teddy  Johns  laughing  and  showing  all  his 
teeth — Teddy  had  fine  teeth  and  knew  it;  Bob  Carson,  with 
something  written  on  the  back  of  the  photograph  that  Mazie 
made  an  affectation  of  not  allowing  us  to  read — we  had  all 
seen  it  nevertheless,  and  used  to  wonder  if  Bob  were  really  in 
earnest;  Gwynne  Peters,  whose  fair  hair  did  not  come  out 
very  well  in  the  photograph,  looking  startlingly  like  his 
grandfather's  portrait,  with  the  same  long  thick  flourish  of 
the  pen  under  his  name  as  used  to  adorn  the  Governor's. 
"  Yours  truly,  Gwynne  Peters,"  and  the  5  streeling  off  in  a 
comet's-tail  like  the  final  e  of  old  Samuel  Gwynne's  signature. 
All  these  young  fellows  frequented  the  house;  on  summer 
nights  they  could  be  heard  as  they  strode  away  down  Rich- 
mond Avenue,  proclaiming  at  the  tops  of  their  several  sets 


62  THE    TENANTS 

of  lungs  to  a  smiling  world  that  the  moon  shone  bright  on 
their  old  Kentucky-y-y  ho-ome,  or  lamenting  in  concert  that 
Alas,  they  were  no  swimmers,  so  they  lost  their  Clementine! 
Doctor  Vardaman  heard  them  as  he  sat  smoking  the  pipe  of 
peace  in  his  porch.  "  God  bless  the  boys !  "  the  old  man  used 
to  say  to  himself  with  a  sigh.  Sometimes  they  stayed  over 
night,  and  came  yawning  downtown  to  their  desks  in  the 
morning,  sheepishly  evading  the  paternal  scowl,  victims  of 
Colonel  Pallinder's  strenuous  hospitality.  If  Mazie  had  no 
scalps  strung  at  her  belt,  she  at  least  displayed  the  spoils  of 
the  vanquished;  gloves,  bangles,  and  bon-bons  were  hers  in 
profuse  supply ;  when  she  went  away  on  a  visit  she  corre- 
sponded with  all  of  them,  and  was  reported  to  be  engaged 
three  deep,  to  our  horrified  delight.  It  is  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  girls  envy  one  another  these  light  successes ;  we 
all  admired,  and  I  am  afraid  some  of  us  tried  to  imitate  Miss 
Pallinder.  It  was  to  be  noticed  that  she  herself  showed  an 
entire  impartiality ;  when  no  one  else  was  convenient,  she  did 
not  hesitate  to  keep  her  hand  in  on  Doctor  Vardaman,  half 
in  fun  of  course.  The  old  gentleman  made  an  open  joke  of 
it.  "  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  given  away  my  picture  in 
forty  years,"  he  said;  and  wrote  at  the  bottom  of  the  card 
in  his  neat,  clear,  physician's  hand :  "  Non  sum  qualis 
eram •" 

"What  does  that  mean,  Doctor?"  Mazie  asked  him 
suspiciously. 

"  It  is  a  plaint — the  plaint  of  an  elderly  sentimentalist 
like  me,"  he  answered  gravely.  "  s  I  am  not  what  once  I  was 
in  thy  day,  oh  dear  Cynara,'  "  he  remarks — in  effect.  Shall 
I  write  the  English  ?  " 


THE    TENANTS  63 

"  No,  don't.  I  think  it's  ever  so  much  cuter  this  way.  Who 
was  Cynara  ?  " 

"  Well— ahem " 

"Huh!  Bet  she  wasn't  any  better  than  she'd  ought  to 
be!"  grunted  old  Mrs.  Botlisch  sceptically;  whereat  the 
doctor,  after  a  momentary  struggle,  laughed  so  immoder- 
ately that  we  all  more  than  half  suspected  she  was  right. 


CHAPTER    SIX 

IF  Gwynne  Peters  had  supposed  at  the  outset  that  the 
new  tenants  would  remain  long  unacquainted  with  their 
set  of  erratic  landlords,  the  "  quite  a  few  gentlemen 
and  some  ladies  "  whom  he  had  tactfully  refrained  from 
mentioning,  he  would  have  been  profoundly  mistaken ;  but 
in  fact  he  supposed  nothing  of  the  sort.  He  knew  his  kin 
too  well;  and  perhaps  shared  tacitly  Templeton's  openly- 
expressed  and  most  devout  hope  that  none  of  them  would 
say  or  do  anything  to  put  the  Pallinders  out  of  the  notion 
of  buying  the  property  when  the  lease  should  expire. 
"  They'll  want  thirty-five  or  forty  thousand,  if  not  more, 
I'll  bet  a  doughnut,"  the  agent  would  say  in  moments  of 
gloomy  confidence ;  "  and  you  know,  Mr.  Peters,  the  place 
ain't  worth — at  least  it  can't  be  sold  for — a  dollar  over 
twenty-eight,  the  way  times  are.  I  might  screw  the  colonel 
up  to  twenty-nine-fifty — he  seems  to  be  a  free  spender,  and 
the  ladies  like  the  house  so  much,  he'd  do  anything  they 
want.  But,  like  as  not,  just  as  I've  done  that  and  got  every- 
thing good  and  going,  Mr.  Steven  Gwynne  will  come  in  with 
some  objection  and  knock  the  whole  deal  higher  than  Gilde- 
roy's  kite.  And  when  I  think  of  what  it  will  be  to  get  'em  all 
combed  down  and  willing  to  sign — and  those  children  of 
Lucien  Gwynne's  out  in  Iowa,  you  know,  they've  got  to  quiet 
the  title — and  Mrs.  Montgomery  over  in  Chillicothe,  she's 
another — well,  I  suppose  there's  no  use  crossing  that  bridge 
till  we've  come  to  it,  but  I  tell  you  sometimes  it  keeps  me 

64 


THE    TENANTS  6-5 

awake  nights  worrying."  The  family  had  fallen  into  the  habit 
of  leaving  all  the  business  connected  with  THE  GWYNNE 
ESTATE — it  must  be  written  thus  to  furnish  some  idea  of 
the  proportions  it  assumed  in  their  minds — to  Gwynne's 
management.  He  had  just  been  elevated  to  the  bar;  from 
thence  to  the  bench,  and  to  whatever  corresponds  to  the  wool- 
sack in  our  judicial  system  was,  according  to  them,  a  short 
step  for  a  Gwynne.  The  mantle  of  his  grandfather  had 
fallen  upon  his  shoulders ;  they  were  proud  of  him  in  their 
extraordinary  fashion,  which  combined  hysterical  and  wholly 
unmerited  praise  with  equally  hysterical  and  undeserved 
blame.  For  a  while  even  Gwynne,  who  had  a  tolerable  sense 
of  humour,  took  himself  with  amazing  seriousness.  He  sat  in 
his  office  surrounded  by  that  copious  library  of  the  old 
gentleman's,  now  grown  somewhat  out  of  date,  to  be  sure, 
but  still  impressive  by  sheer  weight  and  numbers ;  there  was  a 
photographed  copy  of  the  Governor's  portrait,  inkstand  and 
all,  over  his  desk,  and  a  massive  safe  in  one  corner.  It  con- 
tained at  this  time,  as  Gwynne  long  years  afterward  ac- 
knowledged to  me,  with  laughter,  nothing  but  some  of  the 
old  family  silver,  forks,  trays,  ladles,  and  what-not  black- 
ened with  age  and  neglect  sacked  up  in  flannel  wherein  the 
moth  made  great  havoc.  "  Sam's  share,  you  know,"  said 
Gwynne,  his  face  clouding  a  little,  when  his  laugh  was  out. 
"  I  had  to  take  care  of  it,  of  course." 

Into  this  august  retreat  came  daily  one  or  another  of  the 
young  fellow's  connection  with  inquiries  about  that  property 
which  everyone  of  them  called  in  all  honesty  and  simplicity 
"  my  house  " ;  and,  after  much  futile  advice,  took  their  leave, 
commenting  on  the  fact  that  he  strongly  resembled  his  grand- 
father,  and   adjuring   him   to   "  remember   that   he   was    a 


66  THE    TENANTS 

Gwynne."  There  were  so  many  of  them  they  gave  the  place  a 
false  air  of  bustle  and  business,  to  which  Gwynne  used,  half 
in  fun,  to  attribute  his  later  success — "  looked  as  if  I  was 
all  balled  up  with  work,  you  know,  '  rising  young  lawyer,' 
and  all  the  rest  of  it."  But,  indeed,  I  am  afraid  there  were 
not  many  affairs  of  importance  going  forward  among  the 
calf-bound  volumes,  and  Gwynne  defaced  more  than  one  sheet 
of  legal  cap.,  with  gross  caricatures  and  idle  verses.  If  the 
family  took  an  interest  in  the  fortunes  of  the  house  be- 
fore, it  was  redoubled  now.  To  have  the  place  rented  at  all 
was  a  novelty;  but  to  have  it  rented  to  personages  of  such 
opulence  and  distinction  as  the  Pallinders  satisfied  the  most 
exact  standards ;  and  the  colonel's  somewhat  vague  allusions 
to  his  design  of  ultimately  buying  it  filled  these  sanguine 
souls  with  delight.  Let  me  do  them  justice:  they  would  one 
and  all  have  indignantly  refused  thousands  from  people  whom 
they  deemed  unworthy.  Have  we  not  seen  them  rejecting 
poor  Silberberg's  offer  with  contumely?  But  Colonel  Pallin- 
der  with  his  Virginia  accent  and  his  large  manner  recalled  a 
generation  contemporary  with  Governor  Gwynne  himself, 
and  the  traditions  of  an  antique  and  formal  gentility.  The 
Pallinders  were  the  only  people  so  far  who  had  succeeded  in 
residing  in,  and  dispensing  the  hospitalities  of  the  old  Gwynne 
house  without  offence  to  its  owners  ;  I  think  the  Gwynnes  took 
a  kind  of  vicarious  pride  in  the  spectacle.  One  after  another, 
the  entire  family  called  upon  them,  appraised  them,  patronised 
them.  They  drank  the  colonel's  fine  sherry:  they  covertly 
eyed  Mrs.  Pallinder's  suave  beauty,  and  Mazie's  bewildering 
toilettes;  they  were  at  first  repelled  and  then  overpowered 
by  the  rich  tasteful  changes  in  the  ancient  rooms ;  the  pea- 
cock-blue plush  and  old-gold  satin  in  the  south  parlour;  the 


THE    TENANTS  67 

crimson  wall-paper  embossed  with  gilt  figures  the  size  of  a 
cabbage  in  the  dining-room;  the  grand  piano  in  the  north 
parlour  and  piano-lamp  glorious  with  onyx  slabs  and  pendant 
glass  icicles  of  prisms — the  Gwynnes  saw  all  these  things  with 
an  Indian  stolidity  in  the  presence  of  their  tenants,  but  they 
came  away  pleased  to  the  core.  They  went  down  to  Gwynne's 
office — yes,    even    Mrs.    Horace    Gwynne    went ! — and    both 
figuratively  and  literally  patted  him  on  the  back.  They  were 
actually  civil  to  Templeton !  Old  Steven  Gwynne,  who  had 
been  violently  alarmed  at  first,  supposing  that  these  improve- 
ments and  furnishings  must  be  paid  for  by  himself  and  the 
rest  of  the  heirs,  magically  recovered  his  tranquillity  so  soon 
as  he  heard  that  Colonel  Pallinder  was  doing  it  all  out  of  his 
own  pocket ;  he  pronounced  the  wall-paper  and  new  graining 
to  be  in  the  best  of  taste,  although  hardly  the  equal  in  appear- 
ance  or  cost  of  what  Governor  Gwynne  would  have  pro- 
vided. Such  was  the  Gwynne  enthusiasm  that  I  am  convinced 
it  must  have  contributed  largely  to  the  success  of  the  Pallin- 
ders  with  our  society;  for,  after  all,  as  unstable  as  they 
themselves  were,  the  Gwynne  position  with  us  was  of  the  most 
stable;  our  city  had  known  them  for  fifty  years.  A  family 
whose  men  were  rigorously  confined  to  the  professions — all 
except  Horace  Gwynne,  who  was  in  the  wholesale  grocery 
business, — a   family  which  numbered   among  its  members  a 
governor  of  a  State — even  if  it  also  numbered  one  or  more 
"  queer  "  people — such  a  family  held,  unquestioned,  the  high- 
est social  rank.  And  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne — she  was  a  daugh- 
ter  of   old   Bishop   Hunter,   which   may   be   supposed   in   a 
measure  to  set  off  the  grocery  business — frankly  considered 
herself  arbiter  not   only   of  her  husband's   family,  but   of 
society  in  general  as  well;  and  never  doubted  that  in  the 


68  THE    TENANTS 

matter  of  assigning  people  to  their  caste  and  station  one 

blast  upon  her  bugle-horn  was  worth  a  thousand  men. 

She  performed  her  first  visit  in  state  and  ceremony  in  her 
well-ordered  barouche — the  Horace  Gwynnes  were  fairly 
well-to-do,  owing,  people  said,  to  Mrs.  Horace's  implacable 
thrift — and  eying  the  approaches  to  the  old  house,  as  she 
drove  up  in  a  highly  critical  and  examining  mood.  Her  sharp 
glance  noted  every  change;  the  carefully-weeded  sweep  and 
circle  of  the  drive,  the  close-cut  lawn  and  pruned  shrubbery 
pleased  her  like  an  incense  to  the  Governor's  memory.  The 
place  had  not  looked  so  since  his  day.  There  was  a  length  of 
red  carpet  down  over  the  flagged  veranda  and  stone  steps 
such  as  used  to  adorn  the  sacred  threshold  thirty  years  before 
when  she  was  a  young  bride  just  entered  into  the  family ;  this 
trivial  thing  moved  her  inexplicably  as  such  things  do,  and 
she  descended  at  the  door  in  a  temper  of  less  severity.  It 
augured  well  for  the  pair  of  ladies  within,  profanely  peering 
through  their  exceedingly  high-priced  lace  curtains  and 
wondering  who  on  earth  the  funny  little  old  lady  in  the 
chignon  and  her  best  black  silk  was. 

Mazie,  as  soon  as  her  acquaintance  became  more  extended 
and  intimate,  entertained  us  with  a  picturesque  and  I  have 
no  doubt  entirely  accurate  account  of  this  and  other  Gwynne 
visits.  If  they  amused  her  she  was  by  far  too  sharp  to  let  it 
be  seen;  not  thus  do  people  attain  popularity.  Mazie  knew 
when,  and  in  what  company,  and  of  what  sort  of  things  to 
make  fun ;  no  gift  can  be  more  valuable  to  the  social  aspirant. 
No,  Miss  Pallinder,  curled  up  on  her  flowered-cretonne  sofa, 
nibbling  caramels,  and  telling  us  about  the  Gwynnes,  might 
have  posed  for  the  model  of  the  ingenue,  girlish,  inexperi- 
enced, and  youthfully  gay.   "  We  didn't  know  there  was  such 


THE    TENANTS  69 

a  large  family  of  Gwynnes,"  she  explained.  "  Are  any  of  you 
related  to  them?  No?  They're  perfectly  lovely  people,  aren't 
they?  They've  all  called  on  us,  and  you  know  I  think  that's 
so  kind  when  we  came  here  such  strangers ;  we  were  awfully 
lonesome  for  a  while.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  Doctor  Vardaman, 
I  don't  know  what  we'd  have  done.  Isn't  he  the  dearest  old 
gentleman  ?  Mamma  fairly  fell  in  love  with  him  at  first  sight ; 
we  have  him  up  to  dinner  all  the  time,  now.  You  know  it's 
such  a  terrible  job  for  him  to  get  a  good  servant — I'm  sure 
I  can't  see  why.  I  told  him  he  could  hire  me  any  day.  I  sup- 
pose it's  because  it's  a  little  lonely,  and  his  house  must  be  so 
quiet.  We  don't  have  any  trouble,  but  then  we  have  such  a 
gang  of  them  they  keep  each  other  company.  But  you  know 
we  were  so  surprised  after  people  began  to  call  on  us  to  find 
out  there  were  so  many  Gwynnes !  Mr.  Peters  had  said  some- 
thing about  them — I  think  he's  lovely,  don't  you?  but  we 
hadn't  any  idea  there  was  such  a  big  connection;  the  house 
belongs  to  all  of  them — did  you  know  that?  At  least  they  all 
call  it  their  house.  Such  a  dear  old  lady  came — well,  maybe 
not  so  very  old,  but  dressed  in  rather  an  old-fashioned  way 
— Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne,  of  course  you  all  know  her.   She  was 
just  sweet,  and  took  such  an  interest.   She  told  mamma  the 
piano  ought  to  be  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  because 
there  was  so  much  better  light  by  that  window,  and  that  was 
where  it  always  was  when  Governor  Gwynne  lived  here.  And 
she  wanted  to  know  if  we  had  noticed  that  those  big  cut-glass 
chandeliers  in  the  centre  of  the  ceilings  downstairs  were  an 
exact  copy,  only  smaller,  of  the  one  in  the  State-House — 
that  was  being  built  at  the  same  time  as  this  house,  and  the 
Governor   had  the   copies  made,  he  admired  the  design   so 
much.  Isn't  that  interesting?  And  then  mamma  had  one  of 


70  THE    TENANTS 

the  servants  bring  some  hot  coffee  and  little  cakes,  the  way 
we  always  do,  you  know,  and  Mrs.  Gwynne  told  us  about  some 
kind  of  cookies  she  has  made  that  are  the  best  she  ever  ate, 
so  mamma  asked  her  for  the  recipe  right  off — mamma  can't 
cook  a  bit,  and  don't  go  in  the  kitchen  once  a  month,  but  she's 
ever  so  much  interested  just  the  same.  And  when  Mrs. 
Gwynne  went  away  she  said  she'd  had  a  lovely  time — wasn't 
it  nice  of  her?  and  was  going  to  have  all  her  family  call  on 
us — wasn't  that  kind?  And  she  sent  us  a  card  to  her  recep- 
tion; and  right  the  very  next  afternoon  Mrs.  Lawrence 
called — she's  another  Gwynne,  isn't  she? — and  asked  us  to 
Marian's  coming-out  party,  so  sweet.  And,  oh,  girls,  two 
such  dear  funny  little  old  mai — I  mean  elderly,  and  they 
aren't  married,  you  know — Miss  Gwynne  and  Miss  Mollie 
Gwynne  came — what  are  you  all  laughing  at,  what's  the 
joke?  Well,  I  think  you're  real  mean  not  to  tell  me!  / 
thought  they  were  nice — well,  of  course,  maybe  they  did  seem 
kind  of  queer,  but — well,  it  was  a  little  funny,"  said  Mazie, 
yielding  to  the  laughter  with  apparent  reluctance ;  "  we  took 
them  all  over  the  house,  because  we  thought,  you  know,  they'd 
be  pleased  to  see  the  way  we'd  fixed  it  up.  And  they  did  seem 
rather  tickled ;  Miss  Gwynne  said  she  thought  they  had  never 
had  any  tenants  in  their  house  before  that  appreciated  it 
as  we  did.  And  when  we  got  to  the  south  parlour  Miss 
Mollie  wouldn't  go  in,  and  Miss  Gwynne  took  us  in  and  said 
in  an  awful  whisper  that  everybody  in  the  family  had  been 
laid  out  in  that  room,  but  she'd  try  to  get  Miss  Mollie  in  to 
look  at  the  chandelier  which  was  an  exact  copy  of  the  one  in 
the  State-House — and  Mollie  hadn't  been  in  the  house  for 
so  long,  maybe  it  would  refresh  her,  and  take  her  mind  off 
the  funerals,  you  know.  So  Mollie  came  in,"  went  on  Mazie, 


THE    TENANTS  71 

who  by  this  time  was  openly  laughing  like  everyone  else, 
"  and  she  took  one  look  and  covered  her  eyes  like  this,  and 
said  '  Oh,  Sister  Eleanor,  I  can't— I  can't,'  and  Sister  Eleanor 
said,  '  Look  up,  Mollie,  look  up  ' — just  as  if  it  was  Heaven, 
you  know — '  don't  you  remember  the  chandelier  ?  '  And  then 
Miss  Mollie  said,  '  Oh,  yes,  I  remember — shall  I  ever  forget 
— boo-hoo ! — it  cost  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars — 
boo-hoo! — every  one  of  'em  cost  three  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dollars ! '  But,  honestly,  girls,  it's  all  very  well  to  laugh, 
but  it  gives  me  the  creeps  to  think  of  that  room  since  I've 
known;  I  can't  go  into  it  without  seeing  a  coffin  spread  out 
right  where  our  centre-table  is;  and  you  know  there's  that 
lovely  bisque  monkey  climbing  up  a  cord  that  mamma  has 
hanging  from  the  chandelier — think  of  that  dangling  down 
over  a — B-r-r !  I  didn't  know  about  so  many  Gwynnes  dying 
here.  There's  enough  left  to  keep  the  family  going  anyway, 
I  should  think.  Was  Mr.  Peters'  brother  one  of  'em  that 
died  in  the  house?  Eh?  What!  Mercy!  isn't  that  awful? 
Why,  I  thought  somebody  said  Sam  Peters  was  in  Honduras 
or  Alaska  or  somewhere — is  it  the  same  one?  Isn't  that  aw- 
ful! Isn't   it   safe   to   have   him Horrors!  Oh,   girls,   I 

think  that's  awful!  And  Mr.  Peters  is  such  a  dear,  isn't  he? 
So  nice!  But  don't  you  tell  him  I  said  that — now  please  don't, 
girls,  Fd  be  ready  to  fall  down  dead  I'd  be  so  ashamed  if  he 
knew  I  said  he  was  a  dear.  I'd  never  look  him  in  the  face 
again,"  said  the  ingenuous  Mazie,  knowing  perfectly  well — 
who  better? — that  Gwynne  would  be  miraculously  informed 
of  this  damaging  admission  before  the  next  twenty-four  hours 
were  over. 

The  Pallinders  were  not  quit   of  their   landlords,  for   a 
few  episodes  such  as  those  Mazie  described;  but,  as  it  hap- 


72  THE    TENANTS 

pens,  I  never  heard  her  tell  of  Steven  Gwynne's  visit;  and 
only  learned  the  details  afterwards  in  a  roundabout  way 
from  Doctor  Vardaman  and  Gwynne,  both  of  whom  were 
witnesses  of  that  momentous  event.  Steven  was  about  the  age 
of  Doctor  Vardaman  and  looked  twenty  years  older ;  they 
had  been  boys  together.  When  Steven  came  in  town — he 
lived  in  a  weird  little  tumble-down  cottage  with  a  ragged 
little  farm  to  match  it,  several  miles  out  in  the  country — he 
always  went  to  see  the  doctor,  whom  he  called  Jack,  and  of 
whom  he  grew  touchingly  and  somewhat  embarrassingly  fond 
towards  the  last  of  his  life.  I  remember  him  a  tremulous  old 
man  with  wild  grey  hair  and  beard  #in  clothing  worse  than 
shabby,  and  coarse  boots,  walking  with  the  aid  of  a  ferocious- 
looking  cane,  a  forlorn  and  fantastic  and  rather  alarming 
figure ;  yet  he  was  really  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  although  I 
suppose  he  was  just  not  quite  crazy.  When  you  came  to 
know  about  him,  poor  old  Steven  filled  one  with  pity  and  that 
strange  baseless  remorse  with  which  the  view  of  weakness  or 
suffering  sometimes  afflicts  us.  The  gifts  are  so  unjustly 
portioned  out;  simple  flesh-and-blood  rebels  at  the  shame 
of  it.  These  are  whole,  prosperous  and  victorious;  these 
maimed,  mad,  dull,  helpless,  or  hopeless — and  who  is  to 
blame  ?  It  is  none  of  our  fault ;  none  the  less,  the  sight  galls 
us  to  the  quick;  and  there  are  moments  when  the  spectacle 
of  a  string  of  navvies  moiling  soddenly  in  a  ditch  seems  an 
outrage  on  humanity.  Something  of  this  used  to  go  through 
Doctor  Vardaman's  mind  as  he  sat  in  his  library  listening 
patiently  and  most  humanely  to  his  old-time  playfellow's  end- 
less rambling  talk.  Steven  was  a  profuse  talker;  he  picked 
up  crumbs  of  misinformation  with  a  kind  of  squirrel-like 
diligence ;  all  his  life  he  had  been  beginning  something — law, 
medicine,  divinity,  what  had  he  not  tried?  He  never  learned 


THE    TENANTS  73 

anything ;  he  could  hardly  spell ;  he  used  to  declaim  heatedly 
against  the  tyranny  of  schools,  and  had  a  great  taste  for 
phrases  such  as  "  Nature's  gentlemen."  Even  our  tolerant 
society  could  not  stand  Steven  Gwynne;  it  was  said  that  he 
was  not  stupid,  and  not  much  queerer,  after  all,  than  some 
of  the  other  Gwynnes,  but — nobody  could  stand  Steven 
Gwynne.  When  he  had  nearly  run  through  his  patrimony, 
the  Governor,  who  was  his  cousin,  took  him  in  hand,  regulated 
his  affairs,  and  exiled  him  to  that  little  farm  I  have  men- 
tioned. Steven  was  upwards  of  thirty  at  this  time,  but  he 
obeyed  the  family  great  man  peaceably  enough ;  and  there  he 
had  lived  ever  since;  indulging — theoretically  only,  by  good 
luck — in  extraordinary  beliefs  about  State  Rights — during 
the  Civil  War — about  Science  and  Religion,  about  Property, 
about  Marriage,  about  everything  and  anything  under  the 
sun,  harmless,  distressing,  and  annoying.  Young  Gwynne 
had  inherited  him  along  with  the  other  responsibilities  of  the 
GWYNNE  ESTATE  ;  and  when,  rumours  of  the  new  tenants 
having  reached  him,  the  old  gentleman  appeared  in  the  office, 
Gwynne  must  take  him  to  call  upon  them.  "  I  would  not  wish 
to  be  lacking  in  etiquette,"  said  Steven  elaborately.  u  And 
I'm  told  that  Colonel  Pallinder's  family  belong  to  our  circle. 
It  is  the  duty  of  every  one  of  the  owners,  and  I  trust  that  it 
won't  be  forgotten  that  /  am  one  of  the  heirs  to  the  Gwynne 
estate,"  he  added,  eying  the  reluctant  young  man  with  some 
harshness,  for  Steven  was  tenacious  of  his  rights :  "  to — to 
hold  out  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  to — to  the  stranger 
within  our  gates." 

"  You  never  did  before,"  Gwynne  objected.  "  We've  had 
two  or  three  tenants  that  you've  never  even  seen.  I  don't 
really  think  it  makes  the  least  difference " 

"  I've  never  had  this  kind  of  tenants  before,"  said  Steven 


74  THE    TENANTS 

— which,  indeed,  was  an  unanswerable  argument.  "  Why, 
they've  been  there  six  months !  You  don't  understand  about 
these  social  matters,  Gwynne.  It's  diplomacy.  They're  in 
Governor  Gwynne's  house,  and  it's  natural  they  should  expect 
the  Gwynne  family  to  recognise  them.  Why,  they  might  take 
offence  and  leave!  Besides,  it's  the  part  of  kindness  for  us 
to  introduce  them  around,  it — it  gives  'em  a  place  at  once. 
People  say : '  There's  So-and-so,  he's  a  friend  of  the  Gwynnes.' 
That — that  settles  it,  don't  you  see?  Why,  now,  to  give  you 
an  example:  Jake  Bennett  was  at  my  house  the  other  day, 
and  I  told  him  I'd  pay  him  as  soon  as  the  rent  from  my  prop- 
erty came  in.  He  says :  '  That's  all  right,  Mr.  Gwynne,  I 
know  I  can  trust  you.  A  Gwynne's  word's  as  good  as  his 
bond,'  he  says.  That  just  shows.  6  A  Gwynne's  word's  as 
good  as  his  bond,'  he  says.  *  I  know  you,  Mr.  Gwynne ;  you're 
Governor  Gwynne's  cousin,  and  that's  good  enough  for  me, 
or  anybody '  " 


a 


Who's  Jake  Bennett  ?  "  asked  Gwynne  abruptly. 

"  Why,  he's  a  man  I  buy  a  load  of  manure  from  once  in  a 
while.  He's  a  little  queer  in  the  upper  story,  you  know,"  said 
old  Steven,  tapping  his  own  forehead  with  a  wise  nod.  "  But 
the  poor  fellow's  heart's  in  the  right  place.  '  A  Gwynne's 
word's  as  good  as  his  bond,'  he  says " 

"  You  oughtn't  to  be  owing  that  man,  Cousin  Steven,"  in- 
terrupted Gwynne.  He  turned  to  his  desk.  "  Here,  this  is 
the  nineteenth,  but  I'll  give  you  yours  now,  and  then  you 
can  pay  him  when  you  get  home.  Now,  you  sign  a  receipt 
for  this  seven-fifty,  and  I'll  tell  Templeton  I  advanced  it,  so 
he  can  hold  it  out  of  yours  next  month.  Now  you're  getting 
your  December  money  in  November,  see?  There  won't  be 
anything  coming  to  you  from  the  house  the  first  of  December, 


THE    TENANTS  75 

understand?  Seven  dollars  and  a  half — sign  here.  And  you 
pay  that  manure-fellow  as  soon  as  you  get  home,  will  you?  ' 

Steven  would,  he  said.  He  folded  the  money  together  and 
crammed  it  into  his  tattered  old  pocket-book ;  he  handled  it 
a  little  eagerly,  never  having  had  much  to  handle.  "  We'd 
better  start  out  to  see  them,  the  Pallinders,  you  know — right 
away,  hadn't  we?"  he  said,  glancing  at  the  clock. 

Gwynne  looked  at  him  with  a  sinking  heart.  Of  course  he 
was  not  ashamed  of  his  kin.  What!  Ashamed  of  Cousin 
Steven!  Gwynne  would  have  knocked  down  the  man  who 
hinted  it.  Nevertheless,  it  must  be  allowed  that  Cousin  Steven 
was  more  lax  in  matters  relating  to  his  personal  appearance 
even  than  became  one  of  Nature's  gentlemen.  He  did  not 
shave;  he  chewed  tobacco;  his  boots  manifested  some  ac- 
quaintance with  Jake  Bennett's  unpaid-for  wares.  We  all 
know  that  these  things  really  do  not  count;  a  man's  a  man 
for  a'  that.  It  would  be  a  shoddy  soul  that  would  condemn 
him  for  not  blacking  his  boots,  or  cavil  at  the  fashion  of  his 
coat.  Still,  we  are  conscious  of  a  curious  confusion  within  us 
on  the  point;  we  muddle  the  clear  stainless  water  of  our 
theories  with  the  cloudy  dye  of  our  conventions ;  and  to  most 
of  us,  the  quality  of  gentleman  seems  somehow  inextricably 
associated  with  clean  linen.  Gwynne  was  no  snob,  but 

"  Suppose  we  stop  in  to  see  Doctor  Vardaman  first  and  ask 
him  to  lend  you  a  collar  and  tie — you  know  that  kind  of  high 
black  stock  he  wears?"  he  suggested  weakly.  "And  then 
y0U — y0U  might  wash  your  hands,  you  know,  and,  and — 
clean  your  nails.  I  should  think  your  hands  would  be  cold 
this  weather,  Cousin  Steven ;  don't  you  want  to  buy  a  pair  of 
gloves  ?  " 

"Gloves?"    said    Steven    contemptuously.  "  You're    too 


76  THE    TENANTS 

delicate,  Gwynne.  You've  got  all  effeminated,  living  the  way 
you  do.  Gloves!  D'ye  suppose  Adam,  the  great  father  of 
mankind,  wore  gloves?  You  want  to  get  out  and  live  next 
to  grand  old  Nature,  and  old  Mother  Earth.  Those  Pallin- 
ders  are  kind  of  dressy  people,  hey?  Well,  I  don't  care  how 
dressy  they  are;  they  can  wear  all  the  gloves  they  damn 
please.  I'll  let  you  know,  sir,  that  a  Gwynne  in  his  undershirt 
would  be  enough  too  good  for  any  Pallinder  that  ever  lived 
— yes,  or  anybody  else  either ! "  A  mottled  flush  appeared 
on  his  old  face ;  he  raised  his  voice ;  he  made  wild  hasty  ges- 
tures, thumping  with  his  cane.  "  You  want  me  to  spend 
money   on   gloves — drivelling  ostentation!  Gold's   the   curse 

of  this  country,  and  you  want  me  to "  Gwynne  was  a 

little  alarmed  at  these  signs  of  excitement. 

"  All  right,  Cousin  Steven,  never  mind,"  he  said  sooth- 
ingly. "  I — I  just  wanted  you  to  be  comfortable,  you  know. 
You'd  just  as  lief  go  and  see  Doctor  Var daman,  wouldn't 
you?" 

Steven  was  readily  mollified — or  perhaps,  diverted  would 
be  the  better  word.  Jack?  Yes,  he  wanted  to  see  old  Jack — 
he  wanted  to  talk  to  him  about  something.  Jack  Vardaman 
was  a  man  of  sound  sense,  if  he  could  be  brought  to  the  right 
views.  "  He's  been  cramped  by — by  his  career,  and  his  pro- 
fession," said  the  old  man,  gesticulating  with  one  hand  as 
they  walked.  "  I  tried  it,  studying  medicine,  you  know — but 
it's  not  broad  enough,  Gwynne,  not  broad  enough.  Jack  finds 
it  hard  to  grasp  any  new  ideas.  I  said  to  him  the  last  time  I 
was  in :  '  John,  this  money  trouble  we're  labouring  under  all 
proceeds  from — from — from  the  circulating  medium.  Why 
have  any?  Why  have  any  circulating  medium?  Poverty  is  a 
lacking  in  the  essentials  of  life  because  of  waste  on  the  super- 


THE    TENANTS  77 

flulties  through  the  use  of  money — circulating  medium ;  you 
want  to  rid  yourself  of  the — the — the  economic  compulsion 
to  wrong-doing — I've  been  studying  a  pamphlet  by  William 
P.  Drinkwater  that  goes  to  the  heart  of  the  financial  situa- 
tion in  this  country.'  I  say,  get  rid  of  the  circulating  medium. 
Gwynne,  do  away  with  it  utterly,  fall  back  on  exchange  of 
the — the  products  of  labour,  and  an  era  of  prosperity  will 
set  in  such  as  this  country  has  never  seen !  " 

Gwynne  reflected  with  a  wry  smile  that  it  would  be  interest- 
ing to  hear  an  expression  of  opinion  from  Jake  Bennett  on 
the  subject;  times  were  hard  in  eighty-one,  as  some  of  us 
remember,  and  in  these  disjointed  arguments,  Gwynne  rec- 
ognised some  echo  of  the  political  agitations  of  the  day.  To 
be  fair,  Steven  Gwynne  was  no  more  astray  in  speech  or 
manner  than  many  of  the  William  P.  Drinkwaters ;  the 
exasperating  thing  about  him  was  that  constant  appearance 
of  being  able  to  control  himself,  if  he  only  would,  which  seems 
to  be  one  of  the  specific  symptoms  of  unsoundness. 

"  You  will  find  that  the  lack — I  mean  the  absence  of  a 
medium  of  coinage,"  said  Steven,  as  they  climbed  on  the 
car — "  By  George  !  It  is  cold,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  interrupted  him- 
self, "  I  guess  I'll  put  my  mitts  on."  And,  to  Gwynne's  sur- 
prise, he  produced  those  symbols  of  ostentation  and  effem- 
inacy from  the  pocket  of  his  overcoat,  and  began  to  adjust 
them  with  every  display  of  comfort.  They  were  a  bright 
"  Maria-Louise "  purple.  "  Knit  worsted,  you  know,"  said 
Steven.  "  I  got  'em  at  Billy  Sharpe's  at  the  corners,  for 
seventy-five  cents " 

"  You're  getting  effeminated,  Cousin  Steven,"  said 
Gwynne,  soberly.  "  Mittens !  The  idea !  Do  you  suppose 
Adam  wore  mittens?" 


78  THE    TENANTS 

"  Well,  I  understand  Adam  didn't  wear  breeches  either," 
said  Steven,  with  an  unexpected  flash  of  humour.  "  I'm  not 
luxurious,  anyhow,  like  you  with  your  kids.  But  you're  young 
— you'll  learn."  He  laid  his  hand  on  Gwynne's  arm  affection- 
ately. "  You're  a  good  boy,  Gwynne,  if  you  do  get  kind  of 
stuck-up  notions,  you're  a  good  boy,"  he  said  with  earnest- 
ness— and  the  young  man's  heart  smote  him. 

He  found  his  cousin  so  tractable  on  the  journey  out  that 
he  began  to  have  hopes  of  persuading  Steven  to  the  collar 
and  wash-basin,  with  Doctor  Vardaman's  help.  "  I'd  rather 
Mrs.  Pallinder  saw  him  looking  clean,  anyhow — she's  so 
dainty  herself,"  thought  Gwynne,  with  a  burning  change  of 
colour.  Alas !  No  such  good  luck !  As  they  neared  the  Swiss 
cottage,  they  beheld  the  lady  tripping  out  from  the  door, 
exquisitely  trim  and  gracious,  smiling  and  showing  all  her 
pretty  white  teeth,  with  Doctor  Vardaman  escorting  her  to 
his  gate,  in  his  pleasantly  formal  old  way.  Mrs.  Pallinder 
dimpled,  and  flashed  her  clear  grey  eyes  under  their  amaz- 
ingly black  lashes  and  brows  at  Gwynne ;  she  was  en-haloed  in 
rich  furs  and  soft  scrolls  of  ostrich-plumes;  she  rustled  and 
fluttered  with  an  enticing  suggestion  of  dainty  womanliness, 
and  there  was  something  even  in  the  frail  absurdity  of  her 
little,  thin,  high-heeled  and  pointed-toed  boots  that  appealed 
to  the  masculine  sense  almost  touchingly.  Old  Steven  Gwynne 
himself  felt  this  jewelry-box  charm;  he  looked  at  her  with 
open,  child-like,  rather  frightened  admiration.  Wealth  and 
luxury  for  which  in  the  abstract  he  had — or  believed  himself 
in  all  sincerity  to  have — so  vigorous  a  disdain,  exhibited  thus 
concretely,  stunned  the  old  man ;  Mrs.  Pallinder,  to  the  ordi- 
nary view  merely  an  unusually  handsome  and  well-dressed 
woman,  somehow  represented  to  Steven  that  material  power, 


THE    TENANTS  79 

confident,  lucky,  successful,  to  which  he  had  long  ago  bowed 
down  in  the  person  of  Governor  Gwynne;  and,,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  uplifting  consciousness  of  being  that  great 
man's  cousin,  Steven  would  have  shuffled  and  stammered  be- 
fore her  like  any  school-boy. 

"  Mr.  Peters,"  said  Mrs.  Pallinder,  delightedly.  She  with- 
drew a  hand  from  her  coquettishly  fashionable  little  muff — 
we  wore  them  very  small  in  those  days,  a  mere  cuff  of  fur — 
and  gave  it  to  Gwynne,  who  was  oddly  nervous,  with  soothing 
self-possession.  The  readiness  with  which  she  set  herself  to 
the  business  of  putting  Steven  at  his  ease  was  a  grateful 
thing  to  see;  she  accepted  his  purple  mitt,  and  shed  on  him 
a  smile  as  winning  as  if  he  had  been  the  most  desirable  ac- 
quaintance in  the  world.  These  courtesies,  we  have  been 
assured,  are,  in  reality,  nothing  but  small  evidences  of  a 
kind  heart;  yet  I  never  thought  Mrs.  Pallinder  a  kind- 
hearted  woman.  Her  elegant  cordialities  were  not  sponta- 
neous;  she  spread  the  conversation  with  a  thin  glittering 
varnish  of  smiles,  agreeable  speeches,  pretty  conventionali- 
ties ;  one  sometimes  felt  uneasily  that  her  tact  was  almost  ag- 
gressively brilliant,  her  good  manners  too  flawless.  But 
Gwynne,  having  in  mind,  maybe,  this  very  incident,  was  quite 
enthusiastic  about  her  to  his  intimates;  Mrs.  Pallinder  was 
so  kind,  so  considerate,  a — a — a  really  sweet  woman — sweet- 
tempered,  he  meant,  of  course,  wasn't  she?  As  for  Steven, 
he  proclaimed  her  without  exception  the  most  polished  lady 
he  had  ever  met.  Doctor  Vardaman — but  one  could  not  al- 
ways be  sure  of  what  Doctor  Vardaman  thought.  "  Mrs. 
Pallinder  was  an  uncommon  sort  of  woman,"  he  used  to  say 
with  an  unreadable  expression.  "  I  admired  her  very  much 
— almost  as  much  as  I  wondered  at  her.  When  we  met  at 


80  THE    TENANTS 

my  gate  she  contrived  to  look  at  us  three  men,  as  if  every 
one  severally  were  the  man  in  the  world  in  whom  she  was  most 
interested.  Are  ladies  taught  these  things  from  their  cradles  ? 
I  am  told  so;  but  I  never  saw  one  of  them  do  it  so  well  as 
Mrs.  Pallinder.  It's  a  tolerably  stiff  job  to  listen  to  poor 
Steven  discourse  on  the  circulating  medium.  Experto 
credite!  I've  done  it  myself  for  hours  at  a  stretch  that  I 
piously  hope  will  count  for  me  when  I  get  to  the  Place  of 
Punishment.  But  I'm  sure  I  never  could  have  done  it  with  so 
perfect  a  grace  as  Mrs.  Pallinder.  We  went  up  to  the  house, 
she  walking  the  whole  way  with  Steven,  Gwynne  and  I  follow- 
ing in  the  rear,  humbly  grateful  and  admiring.  '  You're  not 
a  married  man,  Mr.  Gwynne?'  says  Mrs.  Pallinder,  snatch- 
ing at  a  change  of  topic  in  one  of  the  pauses  of  Steven's  elo- 
quence. '  I've  met   so   many   charming  Mrs.   Gwynnes ' 

4  Madame,  I  am  not,'  said  Steven.  '  Do  you  know  why  the 
eagle  is  called  the  bird  of  freedom,  Mrs.  Pallinder  ? '  Here," 
said  the  doctor,  with  a  malicious  grin,  "  I  thought  I  detected 
a  sort  of  crooked  sequence  in  Steven's  thoughts,  but  Mrs. 
Pallinder  was  as  nearly  gravelled  as  I  ever  saw  her ;  and  you 
must  admit  the  subject  was  somewhat  abruptly  introduced. 
'  A — er — why,  I  must  give  it  up,  I  am  afraid,'  she  said.  '  It's 
a  riddle,  isn't  it?  I'm  not  very  good  at  riddles.'  '  Because  it 
never  mates  in  captivity,  ma'am,'  says  Steven  profoundly. 
'  That's  the  way  I  am ;  the  chains  of  gold,  the  circulat- 
ing  '  and  I  suppose  he  was  going  to  intimate  by  a  delicate 

allegory  that  he  couldn't  afford  a  wife  and  family,  but  we 
reached  the  house  at  that  moment,  and  the  changes  in  its  ap- 
pearance switched  him  off,  as  it  were." 

The  old  man  was,  in  fact,  rather  pathetically  overawed 
by  all  the  Pallinder  sumptuousness ;  he  looked  down  at  his 


THE    TENANTS  81 

boots  doubtfully,  and  trod  with  caution  on  the  velvet  moss- 
roses  and  lilies  of  the  south  parlour.  It  required  the  telling 
of  the  cut-glass  chandelier  story  to  revive  his  spirit;  and 
Mrs.  Pallinder  further  smoothed  matters  by  asking  his 
opinion  of  the  new  wall-paper  with  a  caressing  deference. 
Afterwards,  it  is  true,  Steven  went  away  in  a  mood  of  gracious 
approval,  and  bragged  freely  with  no  little  satisfaction  about 
his  tenants  in  his  house;  but  at  the  first  moment,  he  was 
both  startled  and  unhappy.  There  were  gilt  mirrors  all  about 
that  gave  back  a  pitiless  reflection  of  the  party,  and  of  them 
all,  I  believe  that  Doctor  Vardaman  was  the  only  one  who 
was  not  faintly  ill  at  ease.  The  situation  was  actually  relieved 
by  the  entrance  of  old  Mrs.  Botlisch,  as  incongruous  a  figure 
in  the  scene  as  Steven  himself.  "  And  somehow  or  other," 
said  the  doctor,  "  I  am  sure  the  look  of  her  for  once  was  a 
kind  of  comfort  to  Gwynne;  it  seemed  as  if  she  and  poor 
Steven  were  a — well,  a  stand-off,  with  the  balance  in  favour 
of  Steven.  You  know  Mrs.  Pallinder  was  always  saying  in 
a  gentle  regretful  way  that  her  mother  was  6  eccentric'  She 
was,  in  fact — ahem ! — I  am  informed  by  the  ladies  of  my  ac- 
quaintance," Doctor  Vardaman  would  say,  with  another  grin, 
"  that  she  was  a  dreadfully  '  common  '  old  person  who  drank 
and  swore  like  a  trooper,  but  was  as  sane  as  anybody.  Where- 
as, we  all  know  that  whatever  Steven's  faults,  he  was  not — 
was  not  entirely  responsible." 

"  That  old  Gwynne  feller's  crazy,  ain't  he?  "  the  old  woman 
said  to  him  as  the  doctor  sat  at  the  Pallinder  dinner-table 
that  evening.  There  were  a  number  of  other  guests,  for  the 
colonel's  hospitalities  were  already  well  known ;  it  was  a  pleas- 
ing picture  of  evening-coats,  white  shoulders,  brilliant  glass- 
ware, and  cutlery;  and  Mrs.  Pallinder  at  the  head,  lent  the 


82  THE    TENANTS 

table  a  distinction  like  that  of  some  expensive  ornament  or 
flower.  Across  the  way  sat  her  mother,  shovelling  in  French 
peas  on  the  blade  of  her  knife,  that  being  one  of  the  phases 
of  her  eccentricity,  and  disposing  of  everything  from  soup 
to  sweets  with  an  audible  gusto.  "  It's  astonishing ! "  said 
the  doctor  to  himself,  his  glance  travelling  from  one  woman 
to  the  other.  "  Pardon  me,  Mrs.  Botlisch,  you  were 
saying ?  " 

"  I  say  that  old  Gwynne  feller's  crazy,"  said  Mrs.  Botlisch. 
w  He  ain't  dangerous,  is  he?  " 

"  What  ?  Steven  ?  "  said  the  doctor,  and  although  she  was 
very  nearly  right,  he  recoiled  inwardly.  "  Why,  no,  he's  not 
crazy,  he's  a  little — a  little  eccentric,"  he  finished,  conscious 
of  a  wretched  irony  in  the  phrase. 

"  Pooh,  pshaw,  don't  you  tell  me,  Doc,  he's  as  crazy  as  a 
bedbug,"  said  Mrs.  Botlisch  coolly.  "  It's  a  pity  about  that 
young  Peters'  folks  being  that  way,  so  many  of  'em,  ain't  it  ?  " 


CHAPTER    SEVEN 

IT  will  be  seen  that,  by  the  close  of  their  period,  Doctor 
Vardaman  had  grown  to  be  pretty  familiar  in  the  Pall- 
inder  household.  Mazie  professed  a  prodigious  admira- 
tion for  him.  "  He  does  say  the  cutest  things !  "  she 
remarked  enthusiastically.  But  Mazie's  attitude  toward  the 
other  sex  was  never  anything  but  that  of  complete  apprecia- 
tion. I  have  seen  her  turn  her  eyes  on  the  coloured  butler 
when  commanding  a  fresh  relay  of  waffles  with  an  expression 
to  draw  from  him  rubies,  let  alone  waffles !  Her  liking  for 
the  doctor  was  perhaps  as  sincere  a  sentiment  as  she  could 
harbour ;  who  could  forbear  a  fondness  for  that  genial,  toler- 
ant, grey-headed  satirist?  In  him  were  to  be  found  all  the 
strangely  dissonant  yet  most  manly  qualities  of  his  genera- 
tion. In  the  early  eighties  there  was  still  extant  a  tribe  of 
hearty  old  gentlemen  who  wore  black  silk  stocks,  swore  freely, 
and  knew  Henry  Clay.  You  may  see  their  strong  humorous 
faces,  shirt-frills,  and  waving  forelocks  upon  scores  of  cracked 
canvases  in  how  many  Middle-Western  homes !  Grandfather 
rode  circuit  with  Swayne  and  Tom  Ewing ;  he  sat  in  Congress 
with  that  Southern  statesman  of  whom  it  was  said  that  when 
he  took  snuff  all  South  Carolina  sneezed.  Perhaps  he  remem- 
bered Chapultepec  and  the  heights  of  Monterey ;  it  is  likely 
that  he  surveyed  the  first  turnpike,  designed  the  first  Court- 
house, performed  the  first  mastoid  operation  in  the  State,  in 
the  country.  In  all  things  I  think  he  played  a  man's  part, 
and  maybe  something  more,  without  any  heroics ;  I  knew 
many  of  him,  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  he  would  some- 

83 


84  THE    TENANTS 

times  get  a  sheet  in  the  wind's  eye,  and  tell  robustly  indecorous 
stories  after  the  second  glass  of  whisky-punch  sitting  around 
the  hearth  of  a  winter's  evening.  There  was  that  one  about 
the  English  visitor  at  Niagara,  who,  being  conducted  around 
the  place  by  the  guide,  out  to  the  little  tower  on  Table  Rock, 
and  down  on  the  Maid  of  the  Mist  like  everyone  else,  wrote 
his  name  in  the  guests'  book,  and  a  conundrum :  Why  am  I 

like  Desdemona?  Because "  But,   at  this   point,  by  an 

ingenious  manoeuvre,  someone  invariably  called  me  from  the 
room!  And,  strange  to  say,  I  was  not  suffered  to  return; 
Desdemona  was  in  the  nature  of  a  prelude,  I  suspect.  We 
have  changed  all  that;  who  so  plain-spoken  as  the  lady- 
novelist  of  to-day,  whom  everybody  reads,  and,  what  is  more, 
discusses  ?  Who  so  wise  as  our  young  people  ?  Nobody  would 
be  at  the  pains  to  banish  them  from  the  room.  They  would 
not  laugh  at  or  with  grandpa;  they  would  only  wonder  a 
little  and  pity  him.  They  are  all  gone,  all  these  humane  old 
lads  with  their  whisky-punches,  their  dreadful  old  fly-blown 
anecdotes,  their  extraordinary,  innocent  coarseness  of  mind. 
The  type  has  vanished  from  among  us,  extinct  like  the 
dinosaur,  dead  as  Desdemona !  It  is  hard  to  figure  them  pac- 
ing beneath  the  cloudy  porticos  of  that  rather  shoddy  gilt 
Heaven  in  which  they  stoutly  believed;  but  do  they  then 
wander  the  empty  house  of  Dis,  the  idle,  idle  land?  That 
were  a  doom  at  once  unkind  and  unjust ;  rather  let  me  fancy 
them  beside  the  cheerful  hearth  in  some  comfortable  limbo 
of  good  companionship  and  honest  material  pleasures;  and 
if  that  too  be  a  heresy  and  interdict,  may  the  sod  rest  light 
where  they  sleep ! 

Doctor  Vardaman   differed  signally  from  his   contempo- 
raries in  being  not  at  all  disposed  to  punch  and  pruriency. 


THE    TENANTS  85 

He  would  have  reddened  like  a  winter  apple  at  Desdemona ; 
and  I  am  bound  to  say  that  here  Colonel  Pallinder  met  him 
on  equal  ground.  It  would  be  worth  a  moralist's  while  to 
inspect  that  stout  piece  of  goods  which  is  men's  modesty  be- 
side the  curiously  flimsy  fabric  we  call  the  modesty  of  women. 
"  It's  funny  about  men,"  Kitty  Oldham  confided  to  me  once. 
"  They  can  be  as  bad  as  they  want  to,  and  so,  when  they're 
good  they  seem  an  awful  lot  better  than  we  are ! "  That  may 
be  the  root  of  the  matter ;  Kitty  was  undeniably  astute  and 
observant  in  various  small  and  eminently  feminine  ways. 
"  Nobody's  all  good  anyhow,"  was  another  of  her  sayings, 
"  nor  all  bad  either.  I  know  by  myself ! "  Colonel  Pallinder 
was  an  example,  too,  had  we  been  aware  of  it.  I  have  heard 
since  from  many  indignant  sufferers  that  he  was  a  swindling 
adventurer ;  yet  Bayard  himself  could  not  have  walked  more 
circumspectly  in  certain  paths.  He  believed  with  all  his  heart 
that  his  wife  and  daughter  were  beautiful  and  gifted  above 
the  ordinary  lot  of  mortals ;  I  think  they  never  had  a  wish 
ungratified.  That  hand  of  his  which  they  tell  me  was  so  ruth- 
lessly busy  about  other  peoples'  pockets,  was  forever  empty- 
ing his  own  for  the  satisfaction  of  his  womenkind;  the  trait 
does  not  make  any  the  better  man  of  him,  but  I  am  sure  there 
have  been  worse.  His  behaviour  toward  Mrs.  Botlisch  was  a 
lesson  in  forbearance  and  good  manners.  He  did  more  than 
endure  her ;  he  showed  her  precisely  the  same  chivalric  defer- 
ence as  the  rest  of  us.  Perhaps  he  was  a  little  florid  in  the 
Southern  style,  and  as  became  a  military  man,  but  I  think  he 
was  never  ridiculous.  It  happend  one  day  that  an  ill-advised 
or  maybe  merely  ill-bred  young  man  having  blurted  out  some 
joke,  high-flavoured,  derogatory  to  Mrs.  Botlisch,  over  one 
of  those  famous   juleps  in   the  Pallinder  dining-room,  the 


86  THE    TENANTS 

colonel  rose  up  and  with  a  severe  countenance,  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  joker's  arm  and  jerked  him  upright  without  much 
ceremony.  "  Don't  mind  him,  Colonel,"  interposed  an  on- 
looker. "  He — he's  not  used  to  ladies'  society,  you  know." 
"  Sir,"  said  the  colonel  sedately,  "  I  should  have  said  he  was 
not  used  to  the  society  of  gentlemen !  "  and  with  that  bundled 
the  offender  out  of  the  room  and  the  house.  Nor  did  the 
action  make  him  enemies;  the  rest  of  the  male  company  ex- 
pressed an  unqualified  approval. 

"  I  was  a  little  afraid  that  he  might  want  to  resort  to  the 
6  code '  as  practised  in  Virginia  or  Mississippi,  or  wherever 
he  hails  from,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman,  commenting  on  this 
occurrence,  "  and  call  upon  my  services  as  surgeon ;  but  he 
was  too  shrewd,  or  in  his  way,  too  large-minded  for  that.  On 
the  whole  Pallinder  was  the  most  attractive  as  well  as  the 
most  diverting  humbug  I  ever  knew  or  can  imagine.  I  liked 
him  against  my  will.  He  was  generous  to  the  last  penny — 
with  money  that  was  shadily  come  by,  to  be  sure,  but  what 
would  you  have?  He  might  have  been  as  tight  as  the  bark 
on  a  tree.  He  was  a  brave  man  and  had  borne  himself  gal- 
lantly on  the  field,  and  I  am  sure  uncomplainingly  in  defeat. 
There  was  no  sham  about  that  limp  of  his  at  any  rate.  But 
he  never  spoke  of  these  things,  nor  ever  flourished  the  Lost 
Cause  in  your  face,  that  I  know  of.  Maybe  it  was  all  part  of 
his  policy,  but  I  like  better  to  think  that  he  had  the  qualities 
of  his  defects." 

It  is  to  be  supposed  that  Colonel  Pallinder  returned  the 
doctor's  regard.  The  old  gentleman  was  their  nearest,  in  fact 
almost  their  only  neighbour,  and  the  colonel  used  to  dilate  in 
comic  vein  upon  the  advantages  of  having  a  physician  next 
door,  and  keeping  on  good  terms  with  him.     "  6  Hang  it  all, 


THE    TENANTS  87 

Miranda,'  I  said  to  my  wife  the  other  day,  '  what  do  you  want 
to  call  in  young  Sawbones — Pellets — whatever  his  name  is, 
the  doctor-lad  you  had  here  last  week  for,  when  you  can  have 
twice  his  experience  and  ten  times  the  gumption  he  ever  had 
or  will  have,  by  merely  going  as  far  as  your  own  front  gate? 
Pellets  is  a  homceop.,  anyhow.  I  don't  like  homceops.  Give  me 
the  old  school ;  they  knock  you  on  the  head  with  their  whack- 
ing doses  and  kill  you  or  cure  you,  put  you  out  of  your  misery 
any  way,  while  the  others  are  still  measuring  out  their  in- 
fernal four  dips  of  this  and  two  swallows  of  that.  When 
Mazie  there  was  three  years  old  she  ate  a  whole  bottle  of 
sugared  pills  while  the  nurse  wasn't  looking.  If  it  had  been 
Doctor  Yardaman's  medicine,  we'd  have  had  to  send  for  him 
and  the  undertaker  and  let  'em  fight  it  out,  and  I'd  back  the 
doctor  every  time.  As  it  was — never  feazed  her !  Day  before 
yesterday,  my  coachman  came  to  me :  '  Don'  know  what's  the 
matter  with  me,  boss.  Feel  mighty  bad.'  I  asked  him  if  he'd 
been  to  the  doctor.  '  Yes,  sah,  he  give  me  this.  I'se  got  to 
take  fo'  dips  every  hour.'  '  Look  here,  James,'  says  I.  fi  I 
want  you  to  notice  just  one  thing.  You're  a  big  man,  and 
that's  an  almighty  small  bottle.  Do  you  think  four  dips  of 
that  is  going  to  cure  six-foot-two  of  nigger?  It  don't  stand 
to  reason.  When  I'm  sick,'  says  I,  '  I  go  to  Doctor  Varda- 
man.  I  want  a  doctor  to  take  care  of  me.  Quit  practice? 
Oh,  pshaw,  pooh!  Any  doctor  will  always  pull  an  ass  out  of 
a  ditch  on  the  Sabbath  day — what's  that  they  say  about  the 
letter  of  the  law  killing  the  spirit?  Now  you  better  go  to 
him,  too,'  says  I,  6  if  you  know  what's  good  for  you.  You 
hear  me? '  '  Lordy,  Mistah  Pallindah,  you  wouldn't  tu'n  me 
off  for  not  gwine  to  yo'  doctah?  '  '  No,  James,'  says  I.  *  I'd 
turn  you  off  for  not  having  any  sense ! '  I  believe  he  did  go 


88  THE    TENANTS 

to  you,  doctor,  and  I'm  much  obliged.  Of  course  you'll  send 
the  bill  to  me.  I'm  not  like  seme  people  that  think  anything's 
good  enough  for  a  nigger — I  want  the  poor  devils  that  work 
for  me  to  have  the  best  that's  going.  When  a  man's  brought 
up  on  a  Virginia  plantation  with  three  or  four  hundred  of 
'em  around,  and  knows  he  owns  'em  all,  and  is  responsible 
in  a  way  to  his  Maker  for  every  one  of  those  black  souls — 
why,  sir,  you  can't  get  over  the  feeling  all  at  once.  Here, 
you,  George,  Sam,  one  of  you  bring  another  bottle  of  that 
twelve-year-old  Bourbon  and  a  syphon  of  soda.  I  won't  have 
any  whisky  in  the  house,  sir,  under  seven  years  old,  and  pref- 
erably ten — preferably  ten  or  twelve.  It  comes  a  few  dollars 
higher  a  bottle,  but  when  you're  getting  a  thing,  you  might 
as  well  get  it  good,  and  if  whisky's  not  properly  aged  it's 
raw  stuff,  firewater,  worst  thing  in  the  world  for  the  stomach. 
My  wife  sometimes  accuses  me  of  extravagance  in  the  table, 
but  I  always  say :  '  Well,  Miranda,  we've  got  to  live, 
haven't  we?  '  As  long  as  Phosphate  preferred  keeps  soaring 
skywards,  and  dividends  keep  rolling  in  without  my  having 
to  do  a  lick  of  work  to  get  'em,  I  don't  see  that  we're  living 
too  high.  We  keep  within  bounds,  I  guess.  Within  bounds. 
I  don't  intend  to  spend  all  my  income  just  because  my  prin- 
cipal is  invested  in  something  as  solid  as  a  rock.  By  George, 
sir,  I  always  save  up  a  little  wad  every  year — I  can  do  it 
without  straining  myself,  and  manage  to  scratch  along  in 
tolerable  comfort  besides — so  as  to  buy  whatever  Phosphate 
I  can  lay  hands  on,  but  it's  getting  scarce,  mighty  scarce. 
It's  been  pretty  well  gobbled  up  by  the  big  fellows  with 
money  that  always  get  hold  of  all  the  good  things ;  only  I'm 
what  you  might  call  on  the  inside,  you  know,  and  that  gives' 
me  a  chance  to  help  myself  or  let  in  a  friend  once  in  a  while. 


THE    TENANTS  89 

But  it's  no  use  showing  the  figures  to  Madame  there,  she 
can't  make  head  or  tail  of  'em,  women  never  can ;  she  says 
they  give  her  the  headache.   Now  last  week,  I  let  out  inad- 
vertently— for  I  try  never  to  bring  my  little  business  anxieties 
home — that  I  stood  to  lose  fifteen  thousand  if  Ozark  Field 
went  off  another  point.  Gad,  sir,  she  laid  awake  all  night — 
thought  we  were  going  to  the  poorhouse  right  off !  Couldn't 
help  laughing,  though  I  did  feel  sorry  for  her,  too.  Nothing 
I  could  say  would  reassure  her — women  are  funny.  Well,  I 
wasn't  just  longing  to  lose  my  fifteen  thousand  either,  a  man 
don't  like  to  be  inconvenienced  that  way,  even  temporarily. 
Fifteen  thousand  means  something  to  me,  though  it  wouldn't 
be  much  to  the  people  I'm  thrown  with  all  the  time.  I  tell 
you,  sir,  those  big  capitalists,  their  money  kind  of  scares  you, 
and  yet  it  gives  you  a  mighty  secure  feeling  to  know  that 
they're  behind  these  enterprises.  All  their  millions  are  made 
up  of  thousands  after  all,  and  they're  not  going  to  put  a 
single  thousand  where  they  can't  keep  an  eye  on  it,  and  see 
it  breed.  Fortunately  Ozark  Field  went  up  to  a  hundred  and 
seventeen  instead  of  declining — I  had  confidence  in  it  from 
the  first.  I  bought  at  eighty,  you  know,  so  Fm  pretty  easy 
in  my  mind  just  now.  If  anybody  were  to  ask  me,  though,  I'd 
advise  'em  to  buy  right  now,  for  it  won't  ever  take  another 
drop,  and  I  expect  it'll  be  out  of  sight  by  the  first  of  the 
year.  Sam,  chopped  ice  to  Doctor  Vardaman,  and  give  Mr. 
Lewis  a  fresh  glass." 

Archie  Lewis  sat  looking  into  his  tumbler  with  a  rather 
queer  expression  as  the  waiter  put  it  down  before  him  after 
sundry  dexterous  operations  with  lemon-peel  and  bitters. 
Perhaps  he  was  thinking  that,  for  a  man  who  made  a  point 
of  never  bringing  his  business-affairs  home,  it  was  truly  re- 


90  THE    TENANTS 

markable  how  inevitably  Colonel  Pallinder  worked  around  to 
them  in  the  course  of  a  conversation,  no  matter  what  the 
subject  with  which  it  started.  Phosphate  preferred,  Lone 
Star  common,  Ozark  Field — I  could  not  begin  to  enumerate 
the  "  enterprises  "  in  which  the  colonel  and  his  capitalist 
friends  were  interested.  The  jargon  of  the  market-place  will 
always  be  j  argon  to  me ;  I  dare  say  I  have  not  even  quoted  it 
aright.  To  this  day  I  have  never  been  able  to  find  out  what 
Phosphate  was ;  it  may  have  been  mined,  assayed,  and  smelted ; 
or  strained  out  of  a  river,  or  compounded  with  retorts  and 
crucibles  for  all  of  me.  But,  although  nobody  knew  anything 
about  it,  it  was,  as  I  have  said,  easy  to  see  that  Phosphate, 
in  Templeton's  formula,  was  a  paying  proposition.  Look 
at  the  Pallinders ;  people  couldn't  live  that  way  for  nothing ; 
this  we  said  to  one  another,  thinking  it  clinched  the  argu- 
ment, and  not  knowing  that  people  live  "  in  magnificent 
state,"  for  nothing.  Who  is  so  care-free,  so  luxurious  in  his 
habits,  so  open-handed  and  open-hearted  as  the  man  who 
never  pays  his  debts?  I  know  of  no  one  more  to  be  envied. 
One  of  the  things  the  Pallinders  did  was  to  wall  in  with  glass 
the  large  porch  off  the  dining-room,  install  a  heating-ap- 
paratus, and  make  a  conservatory  of  it;  this,  too,  although 
they  had  leased  the  Gwynne  house  for  three  years  only,  and 
Mrs.  Pallinder  was  constantly  complaining  of  their  cramped 
and  inconvenient  quarters.  "  Of  course,"  she  said  languidly, 
"  one  can't  expect  much  of  a  house  at  such  a  low  rent,  but 
the  colonel  and  I  have  always  had  separate  dressing-rooms. 
I  thought  I  could  make  one  do,  for  a  while;  but  we're  too 
crowded  for  any  peace  or  comfort.  The  colonel  wants  to  buy 
this  house  and  add  to  it — but  the  end  of  it  will  be  we'll  have 
to  build.  The  colonel  keeps  telling  me  to  go  to  an  architect 


THE    TENANTS  91 

or  send  for  one — I  shouldn't  trust  to  anyone  in  this  little 
town,  you  know.  We'd  have  to  select  the  building-lot,  and 
get  some  man  from  Boston  or  New  York  to  come  out  and 
look  at  it,  and  make  the  designs  accordingly.  But  I'm  so  aw- 
fully lazy  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  to  all  that  bother  and 
worry." 

Such  a  low  rent !  Kitty  and  I  exchanged  a  glance  in  spite 
of  our  manners.  Archie  Lewis  had  told  us  that  Templeton, 
whom  he  saw  every  day  in  his  father's  office,  had  told  him  he 
had  made  the  lease  at  a  hundred  and  seventy-five  a  month; 
we  did  not  think  that  a  very  low  rent,  we  who  lived  content- 
edly enough  in  houses  at  one-fifth  that  amount,  like  by  far 
the  greater  number  of  our  friends.  But  the  Pallinders  plainly 
did  not  measure  by  our  standards.  Mazie  had  a  fresh  dress 
for  every  party;  she  wore  almost  as  much  jewelry  as  her 
mother,  and  when  Mrs.  Pallinder  came  out  in  all  her  diamonds, 
she  was  the  most  resplendent  spectacle  our  society  ever  wit- 
nessed. Will  anyone  ever  forget  her  appearance  as  Astarte 
at  the  Charity  Ball?  She  twinkled  all  over  with  jewelled  stars, 
serpents,  rings,  ear-drops,  gew-gaws  any  Astarte  might  have 
been  proud  to  own — "  goddess  excellently  bright!  "  as  Doc- 
tor Vardaman  said.  The  ball  took  place  during  the  Christ- 
mas holidays — the  Pallinders'  second  Christmas  with  us — 
just  before  Mazie  went  to  Washington,  and,  to  quote  the 
State  Journal,  "  it  was  an  event  long  to  be  remembered  in  the 
social  annals  of  our  city."  Odd-Fellows'  Hall  was  "  a  fairy- 
like dream  of  beauty,"  the  same  masterpiece  of  descriptive 
rhetoric  reported.  Mazie  deferred  her  visit  so  as  not  to  miss 
it,  and  went  as  Folly  in  a  white  dress  with  spangles — glitter- 
ing fringes  of  white  beads  half  a  yard  deep.  Kitty  Oldham 
appeared  as  Diana  Vernon — "  I  can  wear  the  big  hat  with 


92  THE    TENANTS 

feathers  afterwards,  you  know,"  she  thriftily  remarked;  she 
looked  exceedingly  trig  in  a  scarlet  waistcoat  with  her  little 
chin  cocked  up  on  a  white  lawn  stock.  There  was  the  usual 
supply  of  Watteau  shepherdesses — I  was  one  of  them — 
toreadors,  Continental  soldiers  in  buff-and-blue,  Queens-of- 
Hearts,  Pierrots,  and  so  on.  Mrs.  Pallinder's  diaphanous  and 
low-cut  magnificence,  heavily  hung  with  jewelry,  outshone 
everybody,  and  was  a  target  for  considerable  unkind  com- 
ment. A  woman  of  her  age !  It  was  startling,  to  say  the  least. 
She  could  have  gone  as  Queen  Elizabeth  or  Lady  Macbeth, 
but  this  was  almost  too  theatrical ;  of  course,  she  was  a 
beautiful  woman,  and  looked  scarcely  older  than  her  own 

daughter,    still !  "  The    reporters    will    describe    every 

square  inch  of  Mrs.  Pallinder's  costume,"  some  young  fellow 
said  to  Kitty  Oldham.  "  They  won't  have  to  say  much,"  re- 
torted Kitty,  with  an  oblique  glance — a  remark  which,  backed 
by  her  mother's  well-known  acidity  of  tongue,  made  Kitty's 
reputation  as  a  wit  in  our  circle.  The  one  person  whom  it  did 
not  seem  to  amuse  was  Gwynne  Peters ;  and  he  listened  with 
a  singularly  grum  and  discomposed  face,  and  afterwards 
stalked  off  without  a  word,  although  he  was  in  general, 
genial  enough.  Something  must  have  gone  at  cross-purposes 
with  Gwynne  that  night ;  he  wore  a  Charles  Stuart  dress,  and 
stood  about  in  gloomy  attitudes,  with  his  sword,  black  velvet, 
and  lace  collar,  looking  the  part  to  perfection ;  and  he  went 
away  quite  early  after  showing  no  attention  to  anyone  ex- 
cept Mrs.  Pallinder  herself.  But,  indeed,  the  young  men 
were  about  her  constantly,  and  Astarte's  popularity  was  not 
greatly  increased  thereby. 

I  remember  driving  home  with  Mazie  to  luncheon  a  day 
or  so  later,  and  coming  unexpectedly  upon  a  decent-looking 


THE    TENANTS  93 

young  man  sitting  timidly  amongst  the  gilt  legs  and  peacock- 
blue  upholstery  of  Mrs.  Pallinder's  parlour,  waiting  to  "  in- 
terview "  that  lady.  He  represented  the  State  Journal,  he 
said  ;  and  wanted  to  know  if  it  was  true  that  Mrs.  Pallinder 
had  worn  her  five-thousand-dollar  diamond  necklace  at  the 
ball,  and  if  she  would  allow  the  Journal  to  publish  a  photo- 
graph of  her  in  the  costume. 

"  La  me,  I  don't  know ;  you'll  have  to  ask  her  yourself," 
said  Mazie  in  her  gay  drawl.  And  presently  Mrs.  Pallinder 
came  in,  very  tall,  sweeping  and  elegant  in  a  long  red  broad- 
cloth coat  with  black  fur  and  braid,  and  "  dolman  "  sleeves ; 
and  a  black  and  red  capote,  as  we  called  them.  Laugh  if  you 
will ;  that  was  the  way  we  dressed  the  winter  of  eighty-three 
— when  we  could  afford  it !  The  photograph  appeared  duly ; 
and  a  picture  of  the  necklace,  too,  with  several  more  strands 
and  pendants  than  belonged  to  it,  so  that  we  concluded  the 
artist  had  drawn  on  his  imagination  or  some  representation 
of  the  crown-jewels  of  England,  in  order  to  be  more  effective. 

"  Pooh,  that  necklace  never  cost  five  thousand  dollars,  I 
don't  believe  it,"  Kitty  said  afterwards.  She  was  a  sharp 
little  creature,  as  I  have  hinted ;  and  her  critical  view  of  our 
Southern  friends  may  have  been  shared  by  others,  to  judge 
by  a  remark  young  Lewis  made  to  Doctor  Vardaman,  as  they 
approached  the  latter's  gate  on  their  way  from  the  Pallin- 
ders'.  "  You've  got  to  take  a  long  breath  and  get  a  good 
hold  of  something  when  the  colonel's  around,"  said  Archie, 
knocking  the  ash  from  his  cigar  on  the  wrought-iron  scroll 
along  the  top  of  the  fence.  He  eyed  the  doctor  enigmati- 
cally. 

"  I  don't  understand?  " 

"  If  you  don't  you  might  be  blown  away." 


CHAPTER    EIGHT 

IT  seemed  written,  foreordained,  Gwynne  Peters  used  to 
say,  half  in  amusement,  half  in  distaste,  that  his  grand- 
father's house  should  forever  be  either  completely  re- 
tired from  notice,  or  else  figure  gaudily  in  the  lime- 
light of  a  publicity  that  would  have  caused  its  dignified 
founder  untold  wrath  and  mortification.  "  All  that  news- 
paper gabble  about  the  Pallinders  and  the  diamond  necklace 
is  to  blame  for  this !  "  said  Gwynne,  when  he  read  in  the  State 
Journal  a  week  after  the  Charity  Ball,  a  circumstantial  ac- 
count under  flaming  headlines  of  how  "  the  mansion  of  the 
late  Governor  Gwynne,  the  historic  landmark  in  the  suburbs 
of  our  city,  on  Richmond  Avenue,  not  far  from  the  junc- 
tion of  the  Lexington  and  Amherst  car-lines,  now  occupied 
by  the  well-known  society  leaders,  Colonel  and  Mrs.  William 
Pallinder,  was  the  objective-point  of  a  burglarious  attack 
last  night  about  12  p.  m."  It  appeared  that  the  burglarious 
attack  had  failed !  the  diamonds  were  still  safe — as,  indeed,  the 
thief  whom  "  our  vigilant  and  efficient  Chief  of  Police,  Cap- 
tain O'Brien,  in  spite  of  every  effort,  had  not  yet  been  able  to 
locate."  Friends  of  the  family  would  be  relieved  to  hear  that 
Mrs.  Pallinder's  venerable  mother,  Mrs.  Jacob  Botlisch,  had 
experienced  no  ill  effects  from  this  exciting  midnight  episode ; 
Mrs.  Pallinder  herself,  on  the  contrary,  was  quite  prostrated, 
and  could  not  see  one  of  the  innumerable  reporters  who  be- 
sieged the  house.  "  It's  a  perfect  persecution,"  Gwynne  an- 
nounced with  unwonted  heat,  having  called  the  next  day  to 

94 


THE    TENANTS  95 

inquire,  and  been  ushered  into  a  parlourful  of  these  gentry. 
"  Here  were  all  those  fellows  roosting  about  like  vultures — 
and  the  greatest  racket  and  confusion !  Just  as  if  poor  Mrs. 
Pallinder  hadn't  been  lying  upstairs  sick  with  the  fright  and 
worry.  She — she's  a  very  delicate,  sensitive  woman,  you 
know,"  said  the  young  man,  with  the  easy  flush  that  showed 
so  over  his  thin,  fair-skinned  face.  He  left  his  card,  and  not 
long  after  the  florist's  boy  came  to  the  back  door,  having  re- 
ceived express  instructions  not  to  ring  the  bell  and  annoy 
Mrs.  Pallinder,  with  one  of  those  large  pasteboard  boxes, 
wherein  for  all  their  prosaic  look,  so  much  romance  is  carted 
about  the  world.  Truly  a  red-faced  lad  with  a  cold  in  the 
nose,  and  patches  of  alien  materials  applied  to  prominent 
parts  of  his  trousers,  is  an  odd  figure  to  be  employed  upon 
these  sentimental  errands — yet  such  are  all  florists'  boys.  A 
reporter  pounced  on  this  one  as  he  strolled  jauntily  around 
the  house,  whistling  in  a  high  and  cheery  fashion  under  his 
burden.  "What  you  got  there,  Johnny?"  said  this  inquir- 
ing gentleman.  "  Vi'lets."  "Who  for?"  "  S'Pallinder." 
"Well,  who  from  then?"  "  Dunno.  They're  five  dollars  a 
hundred."  The  maid  took  them  in,  and  doubtless  Mrs.  Pall- 
inder's  delicate  and  sensitive  nature  was  greatly  soothed  by 
the  tribute. 

The  colonel  showed  himself  most  genial  and  accessible.  In- 
terviews a  column  in  length  and  photographs  of  everything 
and  everybody  concerned  graced  the  front  pages  of  the  Jour-> 
nal,  the  Record,  the  Evening  Despatch,  A  complete  history 
of  the  old  Gwynne  house  up  to  date  was  "  featured."  The 
reporters  even  approached  Gwynne  for  a  "  few  words."  Tem- 
pleton  saw  himself  in  print  to  his  huge  gratification :  "  Mr. 
Virgil  H.  Templeton,  who  has  controlled  the  destinies  of  the 


96  THE    TENANTS 

Gwynne  property  for  many  years,  was  seen  at  his  office  No. 

16a  Wayne   Street,   and  says "  Templeton   bought   an 

armful  of  copies  of  the  paper  and  sent  them  about  with  blue 
pencillings  around  the  paragraph.  "  His  office !  Well,  I  like 
that !  "  said  Judge  Lewis,  in  mock  indignation. 

"  Thank  you,  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  inquiries,  gentle- 
men," said  Colonel  Pallinder,  as  he  received  the  newspaper 
cohorts.  "  Mrs.  Pallinder  is  resting  easily,  and  will  be  re- 
covered in  a  few  days,  I  think,  from  the  nervous  shock.  It 
was  what  I  may  call  a  nerve-racking  adventure  for  a  woman. 
My  daughter,  I  am  thankful  to  say,  is  in  Washington,  visit- 
ing some  relations  of  ours,  the  Lees  and  Randolphs.  I  have 
telegraphed  her  not  to  worry  when  she  sees  the  papers.  She 
left  last  night  on  the  nine  o'clock  train ;  as  it  happened,  two 
of  our  young  friends,  Mr.  J.  B.  Taylor  and  Mr.  Johns,  had 
driven  down  to  the  depot  with  her  to  see  her  off,  after  dining 
here,  and  came  back  in  the  carriage  at  my  request  to  spend 
the  night.  We  had  all  retired,  when  about  midnight  my  wife, 
who  is  a  sufferer  from  severe  neuralgic  headaches,  got  up, 
feeling  one  coming  on,  and  went  into  our  daughter's  room,  in 
search  of  some  bromide  which  generally  gives  her  relief.  She 
did  not  light  the  gas,  and  was  groping  for  the  bottle  in  the 
dark  when  she  felt  a  strong  draught  of  cold  air  from  an  open 
window.  She  says  her  only  thought  was :  *  How  careless  of 
Mazie  to  leave  that  window  open !  Now  my  head  will  be  worse 
than  ever ! '  and  was  going  toward  the  window  to  close  it, 
when,  with  a  scuffle,  up  jumps  this  scoundrel  directly  in  front 
of  her!  She  says  it  was  as  if  the  floor  had  opened  and 
belched  him  up  at  her  feet.  She  screamed — I  trust,  gentle- 
men, I  shall  never  hear  such  another  cry  of  terror  as  my  wife 
gave ! "  said  the  colonel  fervently.  "  I  sprang  out  of  bed. 


THE    TENANTS  97 

and  rushed  to  the  spot  just  in  time  to  see  the  fellow  scram- 
bling through  the  window.  Most   unfortunately,   I  had  no 
weapon,  or  I  think  I  may  safely  say  that  would  have  been 
the  last  time  he  ever  went  hunting  for  diamond  necklaces. 
The  window  is  on  the  south  side  of  the  house ;  as  you  observe 
there  is  a  vine  growing  on  a  frame  directly  in  front  of  it  all 
the  way  up  to  the  roof,  by  which  he  climbed  up  and  down. 
We  found  his  tracks  all  around  in  the  damp  ground  at  the 
bottom,  but  lost  them  in  the  turf  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
house.  Nothing  but  the  very  strong  sentiment  I  have  for  the 
owners  of  the  place,  which,  I  need  hardly  remind  you,  be- 
longs  to   one   of   the  finest   old   families   in   the   State,   and 
especially  for  my  dear  young  friend  Mr.  Peters,  whose  boy- 
hood days  were  passed  here — nothing  but  that  feeling  pre- 
vents me  from  having  the  vine  uprooted  and  the  trellis  torn 
away.    The  family,  as  is  natural,  are  very  much  attached  to 
everything  about  their  old  home.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  in 
as  short  time  as  we  could  manage,  the  young  men  and  I  got 
our  clothes  on,  called  the  cook  and  housemaid  to  look  after 
my  wife  and  her  mother,  and  young  Taylor  and  I  set  out  to 
explore  the  grounds,  leaving  Mr.  Johns  here  to  protect  the 
house.  We  searched  high  and  low  without  success,  and  down 
by  the  gate  fell  in  with  Doctor  Vardaman  and  his  man  Hud- 
desley  just  starting  out  on  a  tour  of  exploration  on  their  own 
hook.  It  seems  that  the  doctor's  man  had  waked  some  little 
while  before,  thinking  he  heard  a  noise  in  their  hen-house; 
and  as  you  know  we  are  a  little  uncomfortably  near  Buck- 
town  '  here — my  own  servants  are  coloured,  for  that  matter 

i  This  was  a  negro  settlement,  a  survival  of  old  "  Underground  Rail- 
road "  days,  full  of  bad  characters,  about  half  a  mile  off,  towards  the 
river.     It  has  been  improved  away  of  late  years.— M.  S.  W. 


98  THE    TENANTS 

— Huddesley  thought  he'd  better  investigate.  He  told  us  he 
got  up  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  distinctly  saw  a 
man  walking  rapidly  away  from  the  rear  part  of  the  doctor's 
lot  where  it  joins  the  Gwynne  property,  in  the  direction  of 
this  house — or,  at  any  rate,  making  for  the  park  entrance, 
with  something  under  his  arm  which  Huddesley  is  positive 
was  a  chicken,  but  which  was  much  more  likely,  I  think,  to 
have  been  a  kit  or  bundle  of  burglars'  tools.  Well,  then,  gen- 
tlemen," Colonel  Pallinder  continued,  pulling  at  his  goatee 
with  a  sly  smile,  "  Huddesley  got  himself  partly  dressed,  and 
started  out  very  courageously  with  the  kitchen  poker;  but, 
getting  as  far  as  the  gate,  the  park  looking  pretty  gloomy 
and  forbidding,  and  the  night  rather  dark,  he  concluded  dis- 
cretion was  the  better  part  of  valour,  and  turned  back  and 
aroused  the  doctor.  We  joined  forces  and  fairly  raked  the 
premises,  but  to  no  purpose — the  rascal  had  made  too  good 
use  of  his  time,  and  we,  of  course,  had  had  some  unavoidable 
delays.  I  wrote  a  note  to  the  Chief  of  Police,  and  sent  my 
coachman  down  with  it,  and  we  all  went  to  bed  again.  As  you 
see,  it's  a  very  simple  story,  and  hardly  deserves  your  trouble. 
My  own  theory  is  that  the  thief,  probably  some  well-known 
criminal  whom  they  will  have  no  trouble  in  catching,  passing 
through  town,  or  perhaps,  making  a  casual  stay  here — that 
sort  of  gentry  never  have  any  home — read  about  Mrs.  Pall- 
inder's  jewels  in  the  papers,  and  thought  he  might  make  a 
good  haul. 

"  Now  I  consider  that  you  gentlemen  are  partly  to 
blame  for  that,  and  I  bear  no  malice,  only  I  wish  you'd  be 
a  little  more  particular.  Now  if  you'll  just  correct  one  report : 
Mrs.  Pallinder's  necklace  did  not  cost  five  thousand  dollars. 
It  cost — ah — well,  gentlemen,  it  was  a  present  to  my  wife 


THE    TENANTS  99 

on  our  last  wedding  anniversary,  and  to  let  the  cat  out  of  the 
bag,  it  was  bought  with  the  surplus  of  a  little  flyer  in  Phos- 
phate I  took — now  I  beg  you  won't  say  anything  about  that 
in  the  papers — you  might  say,  with  entire  truth,  that  it  did 
nor  cost  five  thousand  dollars.  The  necklace  and  earrings  to- 
gether came  to  more  than  that,  and  I  believe  I  bought  her 
some  other  trinket  at  the  time,  a  brooch  or  something — but 
the  whole  business  was  not  more  than  eight  or  nine  thousand, 
and  no  one  item  was  quite  as  much  as  five.  Now  if  you'll  just 
revise  that  statement,  I'd  be  obliged.  Sam,  bring  the 
whisky." 

J.  B.,  reading  the  colonel's  version  slightly  condensed,  with 
the  truth  about  the  diamonds  carefully  set  forth,  chuckled 
freely.  "  Well,"  he  said.  "  That  was  about  the  way  it  hap- 
pened. But  you  ought  to  have  heard  old  Mrs.  Botlisch !  She 
indulged  in  very  meaty  language,  I  never  heard  meatier,  not 
even  from  a  darky  roustabout  on  the  levee  at  New  Orleans — 
you  know  somebody  said  she'd  been  cook  on  a  canal-boat,  and 
I  declare  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  that  were  true.  She  was  mad 
at  being  waked  up,  mad  at  '  Mirandy,'  mad  at  '  Bill,'  mad  at 
Teddy  and  me,  and  the  thief  and  the  diamonds  and  every- 
thing else.  But  let  me  tell  you  about  Pallinder.  We  started 
out  to  ransack  the  park ;  you  know  how  it  was  last  Tuesday, 
a  cold,  sleety  January  night,  without  any  snow  falling,  or 
we  could  have  followed  the  fellow's  tracks.  As  it  was  we  just 
had  to  go  prowling  around  the  walls,  and  into  the  shrubbery. 
I  had  an  old  bird-gun  of  the  colonel's,  that  hadn't  been  fired 
for  years.  It  was  a  muzzle-loader,  with  a  kind  of  sawed-off 
barrel,  and  I'll  bet  it  would  scatter  like  a  charge  of  bribery 
in  the  State  Legislature.  Pallinder  hadn't  anything  but  one 
of  these  little  light  rattan  canes.  When  we  got  down  to  the 


100  THE    TENANTS 

gate,  somebody  bounced  out  of  hiding  and  *  'Alt ! '  says  he,  in 
a  shrill  voice.  '  'Alt ! '  That  fellow  Huddesley  is  English,  you 
know,  and  drops  his  h's ;  he's  an  awfully  funny  little  chap. 
Well,  I '  'alted.'  I  was  taken  by  surprise,  and  I  didn't  want  to 
let  fly  with  my  blunderbuss  without  knowing  what  it  was  all 
about.  But  what  do  you  think  Pallinder  did?  Walked  right  up 
to  him,  took  him  by  the  collar  and  pulled  him  out — yes,  sir, 
that's  what  the  colonel  did,  without  hesitating  one  instant. 
Pretty  cool,  I  call  it,  for  a  man  of  his  age,  practically  un- 
armed, with  a  lame  leg.  Of  course,  I  wasn't  frightened ;  there 
was  nothing  to  frighten  anybody,  and  besides  I  had  a  gun ; 
but  I  wasn't  sharp  and  ready  like  the  colonel ;  I  hesitated.  But 
Pallinder  walked  right  up,  collared  him  and  pulled  him  for- 
ward. '  Come  out  o'  that ! '  says  he.  6  Who  are  you  ? '  '  Oh, 
Lord,  Colonel  Pallinder,  sir,  is  it  you  ? '  says  Huddesley, 
trembling  all  over.  He  was  the  worst  scared  man  you  ever 
saw.  s  Hi  didn't  know  you.  The  doctor  will  be  'ere  in  two 
twos,  sir.  'E  told  me  to  'alt  hanybody  Hi  saw.'  And  then 
along  came  Doctor  Vardaman  with  a  lantern.  6  What  on 
earth  is  all  this  ?  '  he  said.  c  Is  this  your  chicken-thief,  Hud- 
desley ?  ' 

"  As  we  went  back  to  the  house,  I  said  to  the  colonel : '  That 
was  rather  startling,  wasn't  it,  being  shouted  at  to  halt  that 
way?'  He  laughed  and  said  yes,  it  reminded  him  of  a  time 
he  rode  head  foremost  into  the  Yankee  pickets  one  night — 
'  when  both  armies  were  manoeuvring  around  the  Potomac 
basin — not  very  long  before  Chancellorsville,  you  know.  I 
was  carrying  despatches,'  he  said.  I  asked  him  what  he  did. 
'  Well,  I  guess  I  did  about  two-forty,  and  it  wasn't  over  a 
very  good  track  either ! '  he  said  and  laughed  again.  '  I  lit 
right  out.  They  shot  my  horse.  I  wasn't  lame  then,  though.' 


THE    TENANTS  101 

And  I  couldn't  get  another  word  out  of  him.  I  wish  he'd  talk 
simply  like  that  all  the  time,"  the  young  man  added,  thought- 
fully.  "  Instead  of  gassing  around  so  much." 

J.  B.  himself  declined  to  be  interviewed — amiably  enough, 
but  still  he  declined.  And  Doctor  Vardaman  was  another  to 
whom  the  reporters  appealed  in  vain.  "  The  circumstances 
are  exactly  as  Colonel  Pallinder  related  them,"  he  said  to  the 
only  one  whom  he  would  consent  to  see.  "  And  there  is  really 
nothing  for  me  to  say.  I  had  gone  to  bed  when  my  man  Hud- 
desley  pounded  on  the  door  and  called  me.  I  got  up  and  found 
him  breathless,  and  very  much  excited;  he  was  half-dressed, 
had  been  out  of  doors,  and  as  I  could  see,  was  badly  fright- 
ened. One  cannot  expect  heroic  behaviour  in  a  man  of  his 
calibre,  and  on  the  whole  I  think  he  showed  a  very  good 
spirit.  As  soon  as  I  understood  what  he  had  seen,  I  ordered 
him  to  go  outside  and  wait  until  I  got  my  clothes  on,  and  to 
challenge  anyone  he  might  see  about  the  park  gate,  for  I 
immediately  suspected  that  my  chicken-house  would  not  offer 
much  inducement  to  a  thief  alongside  of  Mrs.  Pallinder's 
diamonds.  The  man  has  been  quite  sick  since  from  exposure 
and  excitement.  I  wish  you  a  very  good-day,  sir." 

And  with  this  the  Journal  man  and  others  had  to  be  con- 
tent. Huddesley  himself  would  doubtless  have  been  more  ex- 
pansive, but  the  honest  fellow  went  to  bed  with  a  serious 
sore  throat  and  cold  the  day  after  the  attempted  robbery, 
and  could  not  leave  his  room  for  a  week.  Mrs.  Maginnis  held 
sway  in  the  doctor's  kitchen,  dispensing  unlimited  tea  and 
gossip  to  the  grocers'  men,  milkmen,  postmen,  even  the  baffled 
reporters  and  "  plain-clothes,"  or  uniformed  detectives  that 
called  in  shoals  for  days.  "  The  docthor  won't  see  yez,"  she 
told  the  latter,  "  so  it's  no  use  askin'.     An'  as  for  Misther 


102  VHB    TENANTS 

Huddesley,  he's  on  th'  flat  of  his  back,  an'  can't  raise  his 
voice  above  a  whisper.  Annyway,  he  says  he  couldn't  swear 
to  th'  man,  if  it  was  to  save  his  immorrtal  sowl.  It  was  too 
dark,  an'  he  only  saw  'twas  a  man  gallivantin'  around  where 
he'd  no  business.  It's  a  foine-spurted  bye  he  was  to  go  afther 
that  thievin',  murderin'  divil  with  th'  poker,  an'  I'm  glad  th' 
docthor's  got  him  instid  of  that  drunken  spalpeen  he  had  be- 
fure;  him  that  got  on  a  tear,  I  mane,  an'  wint  up  to  th'  big 
house  with  a  knife  yellin'  an'  swearin'  he'd  cut  th'  hearrt  out 
of  iverybody — bad  scran  to  him !  It's  turrible  lot  of  men  th' 
docthor's  had  intoirely." 

She  was  right  ;  it  was  a  terrible  lot  of  men  the  doctor  had 
had.  The  picturesque  ruffian  of  whom  she  spoke  had  been 
dismissed  by  the  old  gentleman  a  fortnight  before  at  the 
close  of  a  spree  in  which  he  had  taken  it  into  his  drunken 
head  to  invade  the  Pallinder  kitchen,  menacing  the  panic- 
struck  maids  with  a  cleaver  and  demanding  more  liquor.  To 
him  succeeded  Huddesley;  I  never  saw  the  latter  except  on 
one  occasion,  but  he  became  a  familiar  figure  to  most  of  us, 
and  Doctor  Vardaman  was  rather  fond  of  telling  how  he 
acquired  the  only  good  servant  he  ever  had.  The  doctor  (ac- 
cording to  his  own  narrative)  after  having  at  great  expense 
of  time  and  trouble  and  some  personal  risk,  got  rid  of  the 
highly  emotional  person  with  the  cleaver  who  was  haled  off 
screeching  and  shackled  in  a  patrol-wagon ;  and  after  having 
gone  downtown  and  seen  the  wretch  cared  for  in  Saint 
Francis'  Hospital,  inserted  his  usual  advertisement  in  the 
State  Journal,  "Wanted — by  a  physician  (retired)  living 
in  the  suburbs,  an  unmarried  man  to  take  entire  charge  of 
his  house  and  garden.  Must  be  experienced  in  cooking  and 
indoor-work.  References  required.  Dr.  John  Vardaman,  201 


THE    TENANTS  103 

Richmond    Avenue.    Take   Lexington    and    Amherst    Street 


cars." 


The  clerk  in  the  Journal  office  who  took  it  in  grinned  at 
sight  of  him.  "  Guess  we'll  have  to  give  you  a  rebate  on  your 
subscription,  Doctor,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "  This  is  the  third 
time  this  has  gone  in  since  last  July.  So  long!  Happy  New 
Year!" 

A  day  or  so  later  the  doctor  was  sitting  in  the  homely  dis- 
order of  his  library,  reading  a  new  book,  when  the  washer- 
woman who  came  in  by  the  day  during  these  periods  of  storm 
and  stress,  stuck  her  towelled  head  around  the  door.  "  Doc- 
thor,  yer  honour!  " 

Doctor  Vardaman  did  not  answer,  did  not  even  hear;  he 
was  in  an  enchantment,  his  lips  moving  unconsciously  as  he 
read.  The  beauty  of  the  lines  stirred  him  with  an  almost 
painful  sense  of  enjoyment. 

"  Ah,  thin,  Docthor,  asthore !  " 

"  '  When  you  and  I  behind  the  Veil  are  passed, 

Oh,  but  the  long,  long  while  the  World  shall  last ! '  " 

read  the  doctor  aloud.  He  looked  up  vaguely,  still  under  the 
spell.  "What  is  it,  Mrs.  Maginnis?" 

"  Here's  a  man  to  see  yez  about  th'  pla-ace." 
Doctor  Vardaman  clapped  Omar  shut  briskly.  In  the 
phrase  of  a  poet  as  yet  unknown  to  the  world,  he  turned  a 
keen,  untroubled  face,  Home  to  the  instant  need  of  things. 
"  Send  him  in."  The  man  came  in,  closed  the  door  quietly, 
and  stood  at  attention  while  the  doctor  examined  him.  It 
was  evident  that  he  was  a  little  nervous,  yet  respectfully 
anxious  to  conceal  it. 
"  What  is  your  name?  " 


104  THE    TENANTS 

"  James  Huddesley,  sir." 

"  You  have  a  reference  ?  " 

Huddesley  produced  a  worn  letter  and  handed  it  over.  The 
doctor  read  it  through  carefully.  It  certified  that  the  bearer 
of  this,  James  Huddesley,  was  honest,  sober  and  capable; 
he  had  lived  with  the  writer  four  years  as  butler,  and  fifteen 
months  as  valet  and  general  man. 

"  This  is  dated  two  years  back,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he 
returned  it.  "  Was  that  your  last  place  ?  " 

"  For  steady  work — yes,  sir." 

"  Why  did  you  leave  it?  And  what  have  you  been  doing 
in  the  meantime?  " 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Huddesley,  looking  down.  "  Hi've 
'ad  misfortunes.  Hi  left  'is  lordship,  thinkin'  to  better  my- 
self by  sett  in'  hup  in  a  small  way — in  a  pub.,  sir.  It  was  no 
go,  sir,  Hi  'adn't  'ad  the  experience,  and  Hi  didn't  like  the 

life.  Hi  lost  my  money,  hall  Hi'd  saved  hup,  and — and " 

He  hesitated,  fingering  his  hat.  "  And  a  little  that  was  my 
wife's,  if  you'll  hexcuse  me  mentioning  my  haffairs,  sir.  Then 
she  went  back  to  'er  people,  and — Hi  just  come  away,  Hi 
couldn't  stand  it." 

"  I  didn't  want  a  married  man,"  said  the  doctor  reluc- 
tantly. 

"  It's  just  the  same  as  bein'  single,  sir,  beggin'  yer  pard- 
ing,"  said  Huddesley,  staring  out  of  the  window.  "  She  won't 
never  come  back  to  me  no  more — she  said  so.  And  there 
wasn't  any  children — 'e  died,  the  baby  did." 

The  doctor  was  touched  oddly  by  this  sordid  little  romance 
of  the  kitchen  and  backstairs.  Perhaps  certain  long,  long 
dead  and  buried  hopes,  dreams,  disappointments  of  his  own 
stirred,   faintly   responsive  beneath  their   graves ;   oh,   that 


THE    TENANTS  105 

grim,  arid  little  cemetery  walled  off  in  some  corner  of  every 
heart!  Ghosts  walk  about  it,  and  we  call  them  Regrets. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  since?"  the  old  man  asked 
gently. 

"  Nothing  much,  sir — hodd  jobs,  waitin'  in  heating-'ouses, 
and  such-like,"  Huddesley  answered  openly.  "  'Tain't  what 
Hi've  been  used  to,  but  Hi  can  turn  my  'and  to  most  anything. 
Hi  saw  the  paper,  and  Hi  thought  Hi'd  like  to  get  with  a 
gentleman  again ;  there  was  hanother  hadvertisement  in  from 
the  big  'ous  hup  there  with  the  pillars,  that  Hi  hinquired 
habout — but  Hi  found  they  don't  'ave  nobody  but  coloured." 

Mrs.  Pallinder  recalled  this  circumstance  afterwards,  with 
some  regret.  "  He  was  here  quite  a  while,"  she  said.  "  The 
cook  told  me  making  inquiries  in  the  kitchen — but  I  didn't 
see  him.  Such  a  pit}- — the  coloured  servants  wouldn't  have 
minded,  but  you  can't  expect  a  white  man  to  sit  down  with 
them,  you  know.  Well,"  she  would  conclude  with  her  charm- 
ing smile,  "  if  I  couldn't  have  him,  I  don't  know  of  anybody 
I'd  rather  see  him  with  than  Doctor  Vardaman."  The  doctor 
put  a  few  more  questions  for  form's  sake,  and  ended  by  en- 
gaging Huddesley  on  the  spot.  "  As  to  his  references,"  he 
said,  "  I  never  troubled  to  look  them  up.  A  man  like  that  is 
his  own  reference.  Lord  What's-his-Name  of  Berkeley  Square, 
London,  and  What's-his-Name's  Hall,  Yorks,  was  a  trifle  too 
far  off  for  me  to  bombard  him  with  letters  about  a  servant 
whom  he  had  probably  entirely  forgotten.  I'll  risk  Hud- 
desley." 

The  event  justified  him;  never  had  the  doctor  lived  in  such 
comfort — never,  that  is,  since  the  death  of  his  spinster  sister, 
some  years  before.  His  boots  and  broadcloth  showed  the 
ex-valet's  ministrations ;  the  old  gentleman  gave  choice  little 


106  THE    TENANTS 

dinners;  it  was  his  turn  to  send  dainties  about  amongst  his 
friends.  The  only  fault  he  ever  found  in  Huddesley  was  a 
certain  sour  aversion  to  society  for  which,  as  Doctor  Varda- 
man  remarked,  the  man  could  hardly  be  blamed.  "  He  never 
takes  a  day  out,  and  won't  look  at  a  woman,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  Most  men  of  his  class,  after  such  an  experience,  take  for  a 
while  at  least  to  drink,  or  other  reprehensible  courses.  And 
indeed  I  suspect  that  Huddesley  didn't  put  in  all  of  that 
dismal  two  years  in  the  chaste  occupations  of  waiting  in 
heating-'ouses,  and  hother  hodd  jobs.  But  I  don't  want  to 
push  the  inquiry.  After  all,  he's  had  a  pretty  hard  time  for 
a  young  man — he's  not  over  thirty,  I  think — what  would  you 
have?  We're  none  of  us  saints." 


CHAPTER    NINE 

MAZIE  PALLINDER'S  visit  to  her  relatives,  the 
Lees  and  Randolphs,  was  prolonged  until  the 
Easter  holidays,  which  came  the  last  week  in 
March  that  spring.  It  is  a  fact,  verified  by 
solid  paragraphs  of  "  newspaper  gabble,"  that  she  was  visit- 
ing people  of  those  high-sounding  and  brilliantly  suggestive 
names,  and  moving  amongst  the  elect.  The  family  must  have 
been  well  connected  on  the  Pallinder  side  at  any  rate — who  or 
what  the  Botlisch  clan  were,  no  one  would  like  to  think.  We 
missed  Mazie.  Mrs.  Pallinder  went  about  alone  to  teas  and 
receptions,  smiling  steadily  in  her  beautiful  clothes  that  she 
wore  with  so  dignified  a  grace,  and  reporting  that  she  and  the 
colonel  were  having  a  kind  of  ridiculous  honeymoon  time  of 
it  by  themselves,  no  one  calling,  no  banjos  humming  in  the 
parlour,  no  impromptu  little  dances,  no  hordes  of  girls  doing 
one  another's  hair,  and  munching  nougat  all  day  long  in 
Mazie's  room,  no  prowling  about  the  ice-chest  at  midnight 
for  chicken  salad  and  champagne.  "  The  house  is  as  quiet 
as  a  funeral,"  she  humorously  complained.  "  All  our  young 
men  have  deserted  us,  except  Mr.  Peters,  who  comes,  I  think, 
out  of  sheer  humanity.  My  mother  goes  to  bed  very  early, 
and  there  the  colonel  and  I  sit  by  the  fire  like  two  old  fogies 
until  we  fall  asleep  in  our  chairs.  The  other  night  we  actually 
went  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock.  Sometimes  Doctor  Vardaman 
comes  up  and  we  have  a  game  of  cribbage.  Positively  I  don't 
know  why  we  don't  take  root  where  we  sit,  and  grow  fast  to 

107 


108  THE    TENANTS 

the  spot  like  plants.  On  the  whole  this  restful  time  may  be 
good  for  the  colonel.  He's  been  so  immersed  in  business  and 
those  Eastern  men,  those  rich,  grasping  creatures,  do  drive 
him  so.  I  often  say  to  him,  c  Oh,  William,  never  mind  the 
money.  Haven't  you  made  enough  by  this  last  deal  in  Phos- 
phate to  satisfy  you  yet?  '  I  never  ask  any  more  how  much 
he  did  make — I  don't  know  anything  about  business,  and  it 
frightens  me  to  think  of  him  handling  such  big  sums,  and 
taking  such  risks  and  responsibilities.  He  gave  me  this  ring 
the  other  day,  though,  so  I  know  that  whatever  it  was,  the 
venture  turned  out  all  right.  Isn't  it  a  beauty?  Of  course 
I'm  not  sorry  he's  making  money,  but,  oh,  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
our  husbands  work  too  hard — all  our  men  work  too  hard — 
it's  not  worth  it.  A  few  thousands  less  would  content  us,  and 
what  we  want  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world  is  to  have 
them  in  good  health.  Shall  I  put  you  down  here?  Oh,  I'm 
pleased  you  like  this  little  brougham ;  I  had  it  lined  with  the 
dark  green  cloth  because,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  thought  I  would 
look  better  with  my  fair  hair  against  a  dark  green  back- 
ground than  if  it  were  maroon  or  deep  blue.  Don't  laugh, 
my  dear,  there're  tricks  in  all  trades,  and  it's  a  woman's 
trade  to  look  her  best.  Home,  James !  " 

Colonel  Pallinder,  however,  never  went  to  his  office  until 
ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  might  be  seen  posting  home 
any  day  at  about  half-past  three  in  the  afternoon — "  after 
banking-hours,"  he  used  to  explain,  when  one  met  him ; 
"  there's  really  nothing  to  be  done — nothing,  in  my  office, 
at  any  rate."  And  his  gesture  somehow  indicated  wider 
horizons  than  ours  and  a  vista  of  great  affairs.  For  all  that, 
he  had  no  appearance  of  a  man  harried  by  cares ;  and  it  may 
be,  too,  that  his  home  was  not  quite  so  quiet  and  restful  as 


THE    TENANTS  109 

it  was  represented.  "  I  understand  that  Mrs.  Pallinder  is 
trying  again  to  get  a  maid  for  her  mother,"  said  Doctor 
Vardaman,  half  thinking  aloud,  half  speaking  to  Huddesley 
as  the  latter  brought  him  the  morning  paper,  in  company 
with  his  breafast  on  the  old  silver-plated  tray  with  which  a 
previous  generation  of  Vardamans  had  been  served ;  the  cop- 
per of  its  foundation  showed  through  here  and  there  under 
Huddesley's  vigorous  care;  the  delicate  etched  arabesque 
around  the  heraldic  device  and  motto  in  the  centre  were  al- 
most worn  away.  Doctor  Vardaman  liked  to  fancy  he  could 
see  his  mother's  thin,  fine  hands  fluttering  about  above  the 
cups  and  saucers  on  this  tray ;  she,  too,  had  had  a  habit  of 
harmless  and  somehow  perfectly  dignified  familiarity  with  her 
staid  old  servants  over  this  one  meal.  The  doctor  opened  his 
paper,  turning  at  once — as  everybody  invariably  does — to 
a  certain  concise,  ominous  column  in  the  lower  left-hand  cor- 
ner of  the  inside  page  where  might  be  read,  framed  in  un- 
dertakers' advertisements,  and  notices  that  So-and-So's  mor- 
tuary sculptures  were  the  best  in  the  market,  the  names  of 
yesterday's  dead.  Close  by,  another  column  offered  you  a 
list  of  marriage-licenses  with  a  fine  indifference  to  the  fitness 
of  things ;  and  not  far  away  appeared  the  "  Help  wanted— 
Male — Female."  "  I  see  Mrs.  Pallinder's  advertising  for  a 
maid,"  said  the  doctor.  "  And  here,  in  another  place,  she 
wants  a  cook,  too.  She's  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble  with 
servants  this  winter.  There's  a  pair  of  us — arcades  ambo! " 
He  grinned  into  his  coffee-cup.  "  Only  I'm  very  well-off  now 
at  least.  This  coffee's  very  fine,  Huddesley.  It's  a  pity  Mrs. 
Pallinder's  having  such  a  time." 

"Yes,    sir,"    said  Huddesley    respectfully.    "That    kind 
generally  does  have  trouble,  sir," 


110  THE    TENANTS 

He  caught  the  doctor's  eye  and  coughed  discreetly. 

"  The  house  is  large  and  there  must  be  a  great  deal  of 
work,"  said  the  doctor,  considering  with  vast  satisfaction 
how  comfortable  he  was  in  his  little  den. 

"  Nobody  minds  doin'  work  that  'e's  paid  for,  Hi've 
noticed,"  said  Huddesley.  "  It's  when  you  'ave  trouble  col- 
leckin'  wages  that  you're  liable  to  break  hoff  relations  halto- 
gether — speakin',  hof  course,  sir,  as  a  man  in  my  position, 
not  as  a  gentleman  in  yours." 

"  The  deuce !  "  ejaculated  Doctor  Vardaman  inwardly.  "  Is 
that  it?  Well,  I  don't  know  why  I'm  surprised — I  might 
have  suspected  as  much — in  fact,  I  have  suspected  as  much 
off  and  on." 

"  Hof  course  coloured  people  are  very  precarious,  sir,  very 
precarious ;  you  don't  know  'ow  they  live,  nor  you  don't  want 
to,"  said  Huddesley,  arranging  the  dishes.  "  Their  servants 
is  hall  coloured,  sir,  you  know.  Hi  halways  think  '  Like  mas- 
ter, like  man  ' — that's  the  hold  sayin',  sir." 

"  I  must  stop  him,"  thought  Doctor  Vardaman  guiltily. 
"  It's  disgraceful  listening  to  a  servant's  gossip  this  way — 
Ahem!  Who  was  that  I  heard  you  having  such  a  squabble 
with  at  the  kitchen  door  yesterday  afternoon,  Huddesley  ?  " 
he  asked  abruptly. 

"  A  fellow  peddlin'  shoe-strings  and  collar-buttons,  sir — 
Hi  didn't  like  'is  looks  and  Hi  hordered  'im  hoff  pretty 
sharp.  Hi'm  sorry  you  heard  the — the  haltercation,  sir,  but 
they're  very  'ard  to  get  rid  of." 

"  And  you  aren't  any  too  plucky,"  said  the  doctor  to 
himself  with  some  amusement,  remembering  Huddesley's  not 
over-heroic    behaviour    on    the    occasion    of    the    burglary. 

Why,  I  saw  him  going  up  the  avenue  towards  Colonel  Pall- 


et 


THE    TENANTS  HI 

inder's  afterwards,  and  I  thought  he  looked  like  a  respect- 
able man,"  he  said  aloud. 

Huddesley  paused  a  moment  before  answering ;  he  was  fold- 
ing the  tablecloth  with  an  elaborate  neatness ;  the  operation 
required  his  undivided  attention.  Then :  "  Beg  parding,  sir, 
that  wasn't  'im  you  saw,"  he  said  calmly.  "  That  was  the 
gent  that  collecks  for  Barlow  &  Foster,  goin'  hup  to  see  if 
'e  couldn't  get  something  on  their  coal-bill;  I  persoom  you 
know  it  ain't  been  paid  yet.  There  was  hanother  there  yes- 
terday from  Scheurmann — the  fourth  or  fifth  time  for  'im, 
Hi've  lost  count,  there's  been  so  many  of  'em  lately." 

Doctor  Vardaman  retreated  to  his  library,  somewhat  out 
of  countenance.  "  Good  Lord !  "  he  thought,  "  it's  worse  than 
I  supposed — a  deal  worse!  These  servants  see  or  smell  out 
everything.  It's  not  safe  to  let  them  talk  to  you;  I  don't 
want  to  know  anything  about  the  Pallinders'  affairs."  Never- 
theless he  smiled  a  little  as  he  sat  smoking  by  the  fire.  "  '  The 
haltercation,'  "  he  quoted.  "  Huddesley  certainly  is  a  char- 
acter. He  reminds  me  of  that  valet  of  Major  Pendennis'  in 
the  novel,  that  fellow  Morgan — only  Morgan  turned  out  to 
be  a  rascal,  the  head  villain  of  the  story,  if  I  remember."  He 
took  down  the  book — it  was  a  first  edition  with  Thackeray's 
own  clumsy  yet  spirited  illustrations — and  sat  reading  the 
rest  of  the  morning. 

As  reluctant  as  he  was,  however,  the  doctor,  like  the  rest 
of  the  world,  could  not  always  keep  his  eyes  and  ears  closed 
against  those  embarrassing  things  which  we  should  all  so 
much  rather  not  know.  There  are  bits  of  gossip  which  seem 
to  be  common  and  not  altogether  undesirable  property ;  and 
there  are  ugly  rumours  which  we  feel  it  to  be  the  part  of 
decency  to  hush  up.  We  hear,  underhand,  that  Jones  is  wont 


112  THE    TENANTS 

to  skulk  at  home  for  a  fortnight  dead  drunk,  that  Smith's 
latest  financial  venture  was  curiously  involved  and  cloudy; 
even  if  true,  and  even  if  we  disapprove  of  Jones'  and  Smith's 
conduct  in  the  abstract,  it  yet  in  no  way  concerns  us.  We 
are  none  of  us  saints,  as  the  doctor  himself  said ;  we  dislike 
especially  the  pose  of  holier-than-thou.  Jones  and  Smith  may 
not  be  model  citizens,  but  let  us  give  them  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt  and  continue  to  accept  their  dinner-invitations.  Doc- 
tor Vardaman,  an  upright  man  who  would  as  soon  have  taken 
a  horse-whip  to  a  servant  as  cheat  him  out  of  a  penny,  found 
himself  averse  to  believe  what  was  under  his  eyes  every  day, 
and  obscurely  whispered  here  and  there  by  people  in  other 
ranks  of  life  than  Huddesley's.  What  if  the  Pallinders  were 
besieged  by  duns,  and  their  servants  unpaid?  That  was  none 
of  his  business ;  at  the  suggestion  the  old  gentleman  felt  an 
irritation  for  which  perhaps  some  mocking  inner  self  was 
partly  to  blame.  He  found  excuses  for  them;  they  were 
notoriously  and  amusingly  careless,  extravagant,  free-handed 
— er — er — Southern,  in  a  word;  the  colonel  might  be  a 
rogue,  as  he  undoubtedly  was  a  wind-bag,  yet  of  his  own 
knowledge,  the  doctor  could  say  nothing.  Nobody  had  ever 
tried  to  trick  him;  he  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  suddenly 
cold-shoulder  the  Pallinders ;  their  house  was  the  pleasantest 
he  knew. 

Thus  the  doctor  reflected  uneasily,  trying  to  hush  that 
ironic  sprite  within;  and  presently  he  was  left  with  fewer 
defences  still  against  its  sly  unwelcome  jeers,  for  the  business 
which  he  took  such  comfort  in  assuring  himself  was  not  his, 
became  his  in  spite  of  him !  He  was  a  little  surprised,  when, 
in  the  late  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  Huddesley  deferen- 
tially opened  the  library-door  to  announce  "Mr.   Gwynne 


THE    TENANTS  113 

Peters."  This  formality  of  entrance  was  imposed  on  every- 
body by  the  new  man,  and  there  was  an  old-world  flavour 
about  it  that  agreed  well  with  the  doctor's  house  and  char- 
acter. Huddesley,  who  would  have  been  an  ordinary  flunkey 
in  such  an  establishment  as  the  Pallinders',  was  already  that 
endearing  person — a  trusted  and  trustworthy  servant — at 
Doctor  Vardaman's.  Gwynne  came  in,  ruddy  from  the  thin 
brisk  March  air,  eager  and  confident  of  his  welcome,  bringing 
to  the  doctor's  mind  what  kind  memories  of  old  days;  of 
times  when  he  used  to  come  with  a  top,  a  kite,  a  lame  kitten, 
and  filled  the  childless  house  with  childish  confusion.  Now 
he  was  as  tall  as  Doctor  Vardaman,  and  the  latter  noted  with 
an  odd  pang  that  his  young  face  was  settling  into  the  harder 
lines  which  recalled  to  so  many  his  grandfather's  portrait; 
perhaps  the  anxiety  that  never  entirely  forsook  him  had 
made  its  mark  on  Gwynne.  At  any  rate  it  was  very  apparent 
as  he  said,  glancing  about,  after  Huddesley  had  taken  his 
hat  and  overcoat,  and  gone  silently  and  most  respectfully  out 
of  the  room:  "Cousin  Steven  hasn't  been  here,  has  he?  I 
asked  Huddesley,  but  he  didn't  seem  to  know." 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't  believe  Steven  has  been  in  to 
see  me  since  I've  had  Huddesley — that's  about  two  months, 
you  know,"  said  the  doctor.  "  He  knows  nearly  everyone  now, 
and  never  seems  to  get  the  names  and  faces  mixed  up.  If 

he'd  ever  seen  Steven,  he  wouldn't  have  forgotten  him " 

("I  wish  I  hadn't  said  that!"  he  added  inwardly).  But 
Gwynne  only  frowned  absent-mindedly,  and  began  to  feel 
along  the  mantelpiece  for  matches.  "  Were  you  looking  for 
him?" 

"  He's  in  town ;  he  was  in  the  office,  but  I  had  gone  out. 
Then   afterwards   I   met   Templeton   on   the   street,   and  he 


114  THE    TENANTS 

told  me  he  understood  Cousin  Steven  to  say  he  was  coming 
out  here.  You — you  haven't  seen  him  going  up  to  the  Pall- 
inder's,  have  you?" 

"  Why,  no.  But  he'll  be  along  in  a  little  while,  I  dare  say," 
said  the  doctor  easily — and  wondered  within  him  what  Steven 
was  about  now?  He  said  nothing  more,  having  in  perfection 
the  gift  of  companionable  silence ;  and  for  almost  five  minutes 
Gwynne  himself  did  not  speak,  blowing  a  soothing  cloud  of 
smoke  by  the  doctor's  fire.  Then  he  said  abruptly,  not  look- 
ing at  his  old  friend,  as  if  trusting  him  to  follow  up  his 
thought. 

"  I  went  out  to  see  Sam  the  other  day." 

"Ah?  Was  he " 

"  Just  the  same.  He  didn't  know  me — never  does.  Perhaps 
it's  just  as  well.  The  attendant  spoke  as  if  he  thought  Sam 
was  in  very  good  shape — physically,  you  know.  c  He'll  prob- 
ably live  for  years,  Mr.  Peters,'  he  said  to  me.  '  He's  stronger 
than  you  are  this  minute.'  They  treat  him  all  right,  I  think. 
It's  always  on  my  mind  a  little,  you  know,  that  maybe  they 
wouldn't  if  it  wasn't  for  my  having  an  eye  on  them  all  the 
time.  I  go  out  about  once  a  month,  but  they  never  know 
when  I'm  coming.  But  you  can't  tell  what  happens  in  those 
places — even  the  best  of  them." 

"  Sheckard  is  a  reliable  man ;  I've  known  him  for  thirty 
years.  He's  always  very  careful  about  the  attendants,  as 
far  as  I've  noticed;  even  the  patients  that  haven't  any 
money,  the  ones  he  takes  for  a  merely  nominal  sum,  or  what* 
ever  their  people  can  scrape  up,  are  just  as  well  cared-for, 
I  think.  And  of  course  that  isn't  the  case  with  Sam " 

"  It  takes  all  Sam  has,"  interrupted  Gwynne  gloomily. 
"  Every  cent." 


THE    TENANTS  115 

"  You  can't  blame  them.   But  I  wouldn't  worry  about  him, 
if  I  were  in  your " 

"  I'm  not  worrying.   I'm  simply  trying  to  do  the  best  I 
can,"  said  Gwynne  sharply. 

The  doctor  caught  the  note  of  uneasy  irritation  in  his 
voice  with  surprise.  Nothing  could  have  been  farther  from  his 
mind,  or  indeed,  more  unjust,  than  to  accuse  Gwynne  of  shirk- 
ing his  duties,  yet  the  young  man  was  plainly  nettled — on  the 
defensive.  "  I  must  have  been  too  sympathetic,"  thought 
the  doctor,  remembering  the  miserably  touchy  Gwynne 
pride.  Doctor  Vardaman  was  the  one  person  on  earth,  hardly 
excepting  his  own  family,  to  whom  Gwynne  would  have 
mentioned  his  brother.  For  everybody  else,  Sam  Peters  was 
away  in  California,  in  Algiers,  in  Timbuctoo — the  devices 
by  which  Sam  was  kept  in  the  background  would  have  af- 
forded material  for  a  pitiful  farce,  if  they  had  not  been  con- 
cerned with  so  pitiful  a  tragedy;  there  was  about  these  lies 
a  kind  of  wretched  courage  that  went  near  to  rendering  their 
folly  dignified.  Gwynne  knew  that  his  brother's  misfortune 
was  in  no  sense  a  disgrace ;  but  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
regard  it  as  a  thing  to  be  thought  or  spoken  of  like  any  other 
illness.  Too  much  of  his  life  had  been  passed  in  the  grimly 
fantastic  environment  of  Gwynne  family  traditions  for  him  to 
be  completely  emancipated  at  twenty-four. 

"  I  want  to  do  the  right  thing  as  much  as  anybody,"  said 
Gwynne;  he  scowled  into  the  fire,  chewing  the  end  of  his 
cigar.  "  Only  it's  not  always  easy  to  say  what  is  the  right 
thing.  In  real  life  right  and  wrong  aren't  laid  down  in  black 
and  white  the  way  they  are  in  those  Tommy-and-Harry  books 
we  used  to  have  when  we  were  children ;  they  sort  of  shade 
off  into  each  other.  You've  got  to — to  make  compromises. 


116  THE    TENANTS 

You  can't  take  any  satisfaction  in  being  right — abstractly 
right — when  you're  being  hard  and — and  cruel." 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  boy  arguing  with  himself  about  ?  " 
thought  Doctor  Vardaman ;  these  not  very  original  remarks 
had,  for  all  their  emphasis,  the  air  of  being  offered  in  advo- 
cacy of  some  doubtful  cause;  there  was  a  trace  of  temper 
and  self-consciousness  in  them,  and  even  the  speaker  himself 
appeared  unconvinced.  "  He's  been  having  trouble  with 
Steven,  I  suspect,"  the  doctor  concluded,  remembering  how 
capable  Steven  was  of  making  trouble,  and  how  difficult  it 
was  to  manage  him  without  recourse  to  a  tyranny  from  which 
Gwynne  would  recoil. 

"  That  may  be  a  good  frame  of  mind  for  a  lawyer, 
Gwynne,"  he  said  pleasantly.  "  That  disposition,  I  mean,  to 
allow  a  certain  amount  of  right  on  every  side.  The  question 
of  expediency " 

"  That's  what  I  think,"  Gwynne  interrupted  eagerly. 
"  It's  as  much  a  point  of  what's  best  to  do  as  of  what's 
rigorously  right  to  do.  But  you  can't  make  people  see  that ; 
now  people  like " 

"  Mr.  Steven  Gwynne !  "  said  Huddesley,  opening  the  door. 
And  even  in  the  uproar  of  Steven's  entrance — he  could  do 
nothing  quietly,  and  had  a  voice  of  thunderous  volume — 
Doctor  Vardaman  had  time  to  observe  Gwynne's  start  and 
changing  colour.  Huddesley  withdrew,  taking  Steven's 
"  artics  "  with  a  manner  conveying  his  fixed  belief  that  they 
should  be  handled  with  tongs ;  but  the  doctor,  who  generally 
viewed  this  comic  by-play  with  profound  amusement,  for  once 
let  it  pass  unnoticed.  As  his  guests  fronted  each  other,  the 
old  gentleman  felt  a  sudden  menace  in  the  air ;  something  had 
gone  wrong,  had  gone  very  wrong,  indeed;  that  much  was 


THE    TENANTS  117 

easy  to  read  in  the  two  lowering  faces.   He  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  in  apprehension;  he  tried  to  relieve  the  situa- 
tion by  a  gust  of  what  he  inwardly  characterised  as  "  futile 
patter,"  offering  chairs  and  comments  on  the  weather.  That 
his  unoffending  parlour  should  be  made  the  scene  of  a  Gwynne 
family  squabble  did  not  strike  him  as  outrageous ;  he  felt  too 
genuine  and  humane  an  interest  in  both  parties.  At  the  back 
of  his  mind  the  thought  was  busy  that  Steven  must  have 
been  stirring  up  some  kind  of  mischief  with  his  confounded 
vapouring  communistic  and  anarchistic   theories,  his   "  cir- 
culating medium,"  or  Heaven  knew  what  other  foolishness; 
and  how  was  Gwynne,  or  for  that  matter  anybody  else,  to 
deal  with  him?  The  poor  old  fellow  was  not — not  responsi- 
ble ;  yet  he  could  not  be  bullied  like  a  slave,  or  put  aside  like 
a  child ;  that  would  only  make  him  worse !  "  It  would  be  bet- 
ter, it  would  absolutely  be  better,  if  Steven  would  go  stark 
mad  and  be  done  with  it  (Lord  forgive  me  for  saying  so!)  " 
he  thought.  "  Then,  at  least,  he  could  be  cared  for  properly. 
As  it  is,  you  can't  excite  him,  you  can't  reason  with  him,  you 
can't  control  him ! "  An  acute  sympathy  for  both  of  them 
possessed  him — for  Steven  as  for  a  baby  from  whom  one 
should   tear   away   some  dangerous   beloved  plaything — for 
Gwynne  because  he  must  do  this  really  humane  thing,  per- 
force,   inhumanely.    The    job    was     obviously     distasteful; 
Gwynne  wore,  the  doctor  thought,  a  reluctant,  even  a  sort  of 
hang-dog  air;  and  it  was  Steven  who  began,  ruffling  and  red- 
dening in  blotches  over  his  wildly  bearded  face  and  down  to 
his  grooved  and  corded  old  neck :  "  You — you  got  my  letters, 
Gwynne  ?  " 

"  I  got  them,  Cousin  Steven,"  said  Gwynne  sullenly. 

"  You  didn't  answer  'em,  sir." 


118  THE    TENANTS 

"  I  don't  think  we  need  to  discuss  this  before  Doctor  Varda- 
man,  Cousin  Steven,"  said  the  young  man.  It  was  a  dignified 
and  temperate  speech;  yet,  strangely  enough,  it  conveyed 
to  the  doctor  less  consideration  for  himself  than  desire  to 
avoid  the  interview  altogether.  Something,  either  in  Gwynne's 
tone  or  manner,  struck  a  false  note,  and  Doctor  Vardaman 
looked  at  him  perplexed. 

"  I  don't  see  why  we  shouldn't  talk  before  old  Jack,"  said 
Steven  trustingly ;  he  at  least  was  sincere ;  there  was  no  com- 
plexity about  Steven ;  his  mind  worked  with  the  directness  of 
a  child's.  "  I'd  have  asked  his  opinion  anyhow — I  meant  to 
— that's  what  I'm  here  for " 

"  You  haven't  been  to  the  Pallinders'  then  ?  "  interrupted 
Gwynne,  in  evident  relief.  "  You  haven9t  been  there  yet  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I'm  going,"  Steven's  eyes  were  uncomfortably 
bright  as  he  faced  the  other,  with  all  the  desperate  obstinacy 
of  a  weak  character.  "  You  can't  stop  me  doing  that,  Gwynne 
— you  can't.  I'm  one  of  the  heirs — I've  got  a  right " 

"  Cousin  Steven,  if  you'll  just  listen  a  minute,"  Gwynne  be- 
gan with  an  effort. 

"  You  can't  stop  me — I've  got  a  right — I'm  not  a  minor," 
cried  the  old  man ;  the  words  might  have  been  ludicrous  but 
for  his  pitiful  earnestness.  "  I'm  going  to  know  where  my 
money's  gone  to — I'm  going  to  have  an  accounting.  That 
Pallinder  fellow " 

"  I  say  you  shall  not  go  there,"  said  Gwynne  doggedly. 
"  Your  money's  all  right.  If  you'll  only  have  a  little  patience, 
I'll  attend  to  it,  and  you'll  get  your  share " 

"  You  said  that  before — you've  said  it  two  or  three  times," 
said  Steven,  his  face  working.  He  was  evidently  striving  with 
all  his  might  for  self-control;  there  was  a  painful  dignity 


THE    TENANTS  119 

in  the  effort.  Doctor  Vardaman  was  strangely  touched  to 
observe  him;  it  seemed  as  if  the  battle  were  too  one-sided, 
whatever  its  cause ;  as  if  the  strong  and  sane  young  man  had 
too  much  the  advantage.  "  I'm  tired  of  hearing  that, 
Gwynne.  You  don't  know  how  to  get  the  money,  or  you 
don't  try.  *  If  you  want  your  business  done,  go  and  do  it 
yourself ;  if  not,  send ! '  That's  a  pretty  good  motto,  seems 
to  me.  I'm  going  to  attend  to  this  now,  myself " 

"  Cousin  Steven,  you  can't  possibly  do  anything — you'll 
only  make  matters  worse.  Ask  Templeton,  ask  anybody " 

"  It's  no  use  asking  you,  that's  plain,"  said  Steven  bitterly. 
"  I  want  my  money."  In  spite  of  him,  his  voice  raised  and 
cracked  on  the  last  words.  He  turned  to  the  doctor  plead- 
ingly. "  John,"  he  said,  "  it  ain't  right — it  ain't  right. 
You'll  say  it  ain't  right,  when  you  hear.  Tell  him  it  ain't 
right,  John,  tell  him  it  ain't."  He  pointed  to  Gwynne  with 
his  shaking  hand.  The  younger  man  scowled  back  with  a 
resentment  touched  by  some  feeling  not  far  removed  from 
shame ;  Doctor  Vardaman  looked  at  him  in  open  inquiry,  and 
was  confounded  to  see  that  Gwynne  avoided  his  eye. 

"  You'd  better  sit  down  here  quietly,  Steve,  old  man,"  he 
said  kindly.  "  Now  what  is  it  you  want  me  to  tell  Gwynne  ? 
Let's  thrash  it  all  out.  We'll  put  it  straight  in  five  minutes, 
I've  no  doubt."  He  shook  his  head  warningly  at  Gwynne  be- 
hind the  other's  back ;  and  Gwynne  set  his  lips  ominously  and 
looked  away. 

Old  Steven  began  to  fumble  in  his  pockets ;  in  his  excite- 
ment he  could  not  command  his  stiff  trembling  fingers,  and 
cursed  with  impatience  as  he  sought.  "  I've  got  it  here — 
I've  got  a  statement,  Jack,"  he  explained  twice  or  thrice.  "  I 
put  it  all  down.    I  may  not  be  a  pin-headed,  pettifogging 


120  THE    TENANTS 

little  know-it-all  attorney,"  he  said  with  a  withering  side- 
glance   at   Gwynne   standing   against   the  mantelpiece  in  a 
morose  silence.  "  But  I  guess  I   can  add  up  a  column   of 
figures  and  make  it  come  out  right  just  the  same."  Doctor 
Vardaman  might  have  laughed  at  another  time;  but  now  he 
was  too  concerned  for  the  outcome,  feeling  instinctively  that, 
at  its  core,  this  was  no  laughing  matter.  The  presentiment 
chilled  him  into  gravity  as  he  watched  Steven  turn  out  a 
collection  of  rubbish  such  as  any  schoolboy  might  have  owned 
— broken  bits  of  slate-pencil,  a  disabled  toothbrush,  hanks 
of  cotton  string,  a  handful  of  Indian  corn  and  one  of  loose 
tobacco,  numerous  buttons,  a  large  red  apple — "  I  brought 
that  for  Gwynne,  but  now  I'll  give  it  to  you,  John,"  said  the 
old  man  severely.  Finally  from  the  midst  of  this  dunnage  he 
produced  a  creased  and  soiled  paper  and  spread  it  out  tri- 
umphantly. "  There,  Jack,  there,  I  wrote  it  all  out.  '  Wil- 
liam Pallinder,  Esquire' — no,  I'll  be  damned  if  I  call  him 
6  esquire,'  it's  too  good  for  him — lend  me  your  pen-knife, 
Jack,   I'll   scratch   it   out  when   I   get   through   reading — 
'  William  Pallinder  in  account  with  Steven  Gwynne  et  al. — 
I  remember  that  out  of  the  books  when  I  was  studying  law 
— et  al.,  for  house-rent  due  from  November,  1881,  to  March, 
1883,   sixteen  months,   at  one  hundred   and  fifty  dollars   a 
month,  twenty-four  hundred  dollars — ain't  that  correct?  And 
there's  twenty  of  us,  you  know,  John,  counting  Eleanor  and 
Mollie's   share   as   one,   twenty  goes   into   twenty-four  once 
and  four  over — I  put  that  down  on  another  piece  of  paper — 
I  can't  find  it,  but  I  remember  anyhow — twenty  into  twenty- 
four  once  and  four  over,  twenty  into  forty  goes  twice,  and 
ought's  ought,  and  ought's  ought.  That's  a  hundred  and 
twenty  apiece  that's  coming  to  us,  John,  ain't  that  correct?  " 


THE    TENANTS  121 

He  looked  into  the  doctor's  face  eagerly ;  momentarily  it 
seemed  as  if  the  gravity  of  the  scene  were  about  to  evaporate 
in  a  cheap  burlesque.  In  the  variegated  patchwork  of  Steven's 
mental  processes,  theories  about  the  superfluousness  of  money, 
and  laboured  calculations  as  to  how  much  was  coming  to  him 
found  an  equal  place,  and  were  matched  side  by  side  with  no 
sense  of  incongruity. 

"  Yes,  that's  perfectly  correct,  Steven,"  said  the  doctor, 
somewhat  illuminated. 

Steven  eyed  Gwynne  vindictively.  "  I  guess  I  can  figger 
all  right  if  I  ain't  a  pin-head " 

"  Nobody's  saying  your  figures  aren't  right,"  said  Gwynne, 
with  a  weary  patience.  "  The  colonel  owes  the  estate  that 
much,  and  if  you'll  let  things  alone,  it'll  be  paid." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it'll  be  paid.  I'll  make  it  my  business  to  see  that 
it's  paid,"  said  Steven,  nodding.  He  turned  to  the  doctor, 
confident  of  his  support.  "Ain't  I  right,  John?  Gwynne 
there  won't  do  anything — won't  lift  his  hand — just  lets  the 
rent  keep  on  piling  up  and  piling  up.  Calls  himself  a  lawyer, 
and  won't  do  anything — I've  written  him  time  and  time  again 
authorising  him  to — to  sue — to  sue  for  our  rent — haven't  I, 
Gwynne?  Did  I,  or  did  I  not  write  you,  answer  me  that?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  wrote  me,"  said  Gwynne  drily. 

"  There,  you  see,  you  see,  John,"  said  Steven  despairingly. 
"  That's  the  way  he  acts — just  that  indifferent  and  shilly- 
shally. It's  seven  dollars  and  a  half  a  month  we  ought  each 
one  to  have  been  getting  all  this  time — seven  dollars  and  a 
half,"  his  voice  cracked  again — "  we  haven't  had  a  cent — not 
a  cent,  for  over  a  year,  and  he  won't  do  anything!  He  ought 
to  sue,  oughtn't  he,  John?  " 

"  Why,  Lord  bless  me,  Steven,  /  don't  know,"  said  the 


122  THE    TENANTS 

doctor,  at  once  relieved  yet  remotely  disquieted  to  learn  the 
cause  of  the  trouble,  worried  over  Steven,  and  slightly  amused 
at  this  seven-dollar-a-month  melodrama.  "  I'm  not  a  lawyer, 
you  know.  I  suppose  there's  some  way  of  getting  at  tenants 
that  won't  pay  their  rent — some  way  other  than  evicting  'em 
bodily,  I  mean — you'd  hardly  like  to  do  that,  you  know,  to 
people  like  the  Pallinders " 

"  Don't  see  why  not,"  said  Steven,  seizing  upon  this  new 
idea  with  a  very  disconcerting  readiness.  "  I'd  bring  'em  to 
time,  if  /  had  the  doing  of  it."  He  directed  a  vindictive  glance 
at  Gwynne.  "  '  Pay  or  quit,'  that's  what  I'd  say " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Steven,  you  wouldn't  want  to  see  the 
Pallinders'  bureaus  and  bedsteads  out  on  the  sidewalk.  It 
would  be  a  kind  of  discredit  to  the  property — your  property 
— Governor  Gwynne's  house,"  said  the  doctor,  struggling 
with  an  inconvenient  tendency  to  laugh,  yet  diplomatically 
approaching  Steven  on  his  most  vulnerable  side.  "  You 
wouldn't  treat  Mrs.  Pallinder  that  way — she's  a  very  polished 
lady — I've  heard  you  say  so  a  dozen  times  myself." 

"  There's  no  occasion  to  bring  in  Mrs.  Pallinder's  name  at 
all,  I  think,"  said  Gwynne,  in  so  savage  a  voice  that  Doctor 
Vardaman  started  with  astonishment.  Their  eyes  met.  "  She 
has  nothing  to  do  with  this,"  said  the  young  man  constrain- 
edly, averting  his  gaze  almost  at  the  instant.  "  We're  all 
gentlemen,    I   hope,   and   we   don't   have   to   talk   about   a 


woman." 


Doctor  Vardaman  rubbed  his  chin.  "  Steven,"  he  said 
thoughtfully,  "  I  think  maybe  you'd  better  let  Gwynne  man- 
age it  his  own  way " 

"  But  I  have — I  have  for  a  year,  and  look  how  he's  man- 
aged it !  "  cried  Steven ;  he  looked  from  the  doctor  to  Gwynne 


THE    TENANTS  123 

in  an  exasperated  bewilderment.  "  We  aren't  as  well  off  now 
as  we  were  a  year  ago !  There's  that  much  more  owing  us — 
and  he  said  just  the  same  thing  then,  to  let  things  alone. 
Damn  it,  we've  let  'em  alone,  and  see  where  we  are ! " 

There  was  a  devious  justice  in  this  argument  that,  taken 
with  Gwynne's  more  or  less  disingenuous  behaviour,  was  not 
without  its  effect  on  the  doctor;  of  course,  he  told  himself, 
the  young  fellow's  inactivity  was  capable  of  some  perfectly 
reasonable  explanation ;  everyone  knew  that  the  direction  of 
the  Gwynne  affairs  was  a  fearfully  complicated  task,  and 
Doctor  Vardaman  was  not  desirous  of  going  further  into  its 
details,  even  if  Gwynne  had  wanted  to  enlighten  him — still 
he  would  have  been  better  satisfied  if  the  boy  had  shown  him- 
self more  frank  and  not  quite  so  sulky.  It  occurred  to  him, 
with  a  fine  irony,  that  here  was  probably  one  of  Gwynne's 
cases  where  there  was  some  right  on  both  sides.  The  main 
thing  at  the  moment,  he  realised,  was  to  get  Steven  quieted. 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  I — really  I  can't  advise  you,  Steven,"  he 
said  in  his  most  moderate  voice.  "  Have  you  talked  to  Mr. 
Templeton?  He's  your  real  agent,  you  know;  he  does  the 
collecting,  doesn't  he?  I'm  sure  if  he  and  Gwynne  both 
think " 

"  Templeton!  He's  a — a  creature  of  Gwynne's !  "  cried 
Steven  angrily.  "  He's  no  better  than  a — a  mercenary — a 
— a  hired  bravo  !  " 

Gwynne  had  to  smile.  The  idea  of  fat  little  spectacled 
Templeton  in  the  role  of  chief -villain's  handy-man,  be-cloaked 
and  be-daggered  as  we  are  accustomed  to  figure  those 
romantic  gentlemen,  was  irresistibly  comic.  But  Steven  saw 
the  smile  and  turned  purple;  he  got  up,  choking  and  trem- 
bling. 


124  THE    TENANTS 

"  Very  well,  young  man,  very  well !  "  he  said,  not  with- 
out dignity.  "  I  suppose  you  can  afford  to  laugh — you  have 
the  upper  hand.  It's  very  funny,  no  doubt — but  /  wouldn't 
laugh  at  anybody  in  trouble — not  at  my  own  kin  anyhow — 
blood's  thicker  than  water.  Oh,  yes,  I'm  very  funny,  of 
course;  I'm  nothing  but  an  old  man  that  don't  know  any- 
thing— and — and  a — a  kind  of  a  nuisance,  I  suppose,  and 
and — I  don't  dress  stylish,  and  it's  real  funny  for  me  to 
want  my  money — oh,  yes !  You  needn't  worry,  Gwynne,  I'm 
not  going  to  trouble  you  any  more  about  it — I'll  attend  to 
my  own  affairs  after  this.  Jack,  where're  my  gum-shoes, 
please?  You  can  let  things  alone,  if  you  choose,  Mr.  Peters, 
but  Vm " 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  said  Gwynne  harshly — 
the  more  harshly,  perhaps,  because  he  was  touched  and  a  little 
shamed,  against  his  will. 

Almost  involuntarily,  he  moved  between  his  cousin  and  the 
door. 

"  I'm  going  to  my  house,  to  my  house,  to  see  Pallinder 
myself,"  said  Steven,  frightened  yet  obstinate. 

Gwynne  made  a  gesture  of  angry  impatience.  "  He  won't 
be  at  home  at  this  time  of  day.  Cousin  Steven,  if  you'll  only 
wait  a  little " 

"  I've  done  all  the  waiting  I  intend  to,  Mr.  Gwynne  Peters. 
If  he  ain't  at  home,  I  mean  to  see  her " 

"  Oh,  good  Lord,  Steven,  you  can't  do  that — you  can't 
talk  to  a  woman  about  things  like  that ! "  interposed  Doctor 
Vardaman,  shocked.  "  Now  I'll  tell  you  what,  you  stay  here 
quietly  with  me,  and  take  dinner  and  let  Gwynne  see  to  it. 
Gwynne'll  fix  it  all  right  if  you "  if  you  will  give  him 


THE    TENANTS  125 

time,  the  doctor  was  about  to  add,  when  the  weakness  of  that 
already  well-worn  plea  struck  him. 

"  I  don't  trust  him,  I  tell  you — he  ain't  to  be  trusted.  I 
can  attend  to  my  own  affairs  and  I  will!  "  said  Steven  fiercely. 
The  question  had  by  this  time  become  to  him  not  so  much 
that  of  recovering  his  money  as  of  having  his  own  way; 
they  would  conspire  against  him,  would  they?  They  would 
keep  him  from  having  a  voice  in  his  own  proper  affairs? 
Somebody  had  been  meddling  with  him  that  way  all  his  life ; 
he  would  show  them,  he,  Steven  Gwynne !  "  I  won't  have  him 
interfering  with  me  any  longer — he  don't  suit  me — I'll  run 
my  affairs  to  suit  myself,  without  any  leave  from  you,  Mr. 
Gwynne  Peters — call  yourself  a  lawyer — I  wouldn't  trust 
you  'round  the  corner  with  a  cent  of  my  money — I  wouldn't 
have  you  try  a  case  for  my  dog,  I  wouldn't " 

"  Then  get  some  other  lawyer  that  you  do  trust ! "  shouted 
Gwynne  above  the  other's  shouting.  "  But  right  now  you're 
not  going  near  Mrs.  Pallinder,  d'ye  hear  me?  It's  shameful; 
she  shan't  be  persecuted  this  way !  " 

"  I'll  go  where  I  damn  please,  sir.  Get  another  lawyer ! 
Precious  good  care  you've  taken  that  I  can't  get  another 
lawyer !  Where's  the  money  ?  where's  my  hundred  and  twenty 
dollars,  Gwynne  Peters?  " 

"  If  you'll  come  down  to  the  office,  I'll  give  you  your 
infernal  hundred  and  twenty  now,"  said  Gwynne,  steadying 
himself  as  best  he  could.  "  I'll  give  it  to  you  myself  out  of 
hand,  and  then  you  can  go  and  employ  ten  lawyers  if  you 
like.  But  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  turn  Mrs.  Pall — the 
Pallinders  out  of  doors,  or  hound  them  about  the  rent,  you're 
mistaken.  Why,  it's  my  money  just  as  much  as  yours,  and 


126  THE    TENANTS 

am  I  worrying?  The  colonel's  good  for  it,  and  even  if  he 
isn't,  the  house  and  furniture  are  there;  they  aren't  going  to 
fly  away — if  you'll  be  patient  and  act  sensibly,  I'll  get  your 
money.  If  you  won't  I'll  wash  my  hands  of  the  whole  busi- 
ness. You  can " 

"For  God's  sake,  Gwynne,"  ejaculated  the  doctor  in  an 
undertone,  "  don't  make  things  worse  than  they  are ! 
Steven  can't  control  himself,  but  you  can !  " 

"  Why,  I'm  not  a  brute,  Doctor  Vardaman,  I'm  not  a — a 
Jew!  I  won't  allow  Mrs.  Pallinder  to  be  made  wretched  be- 
cause of  this — this — it's  bad  enough  for  me  to  have  to  stand 

it;  but  she — she "  The  young  man  caught  himself;  he 

was  on  the  edge  of  saying  "  she's  an  angel,"  but  even  in  that 
moment  of  excitement  some  saving  sense  of  humour  mercifully 
restrained  him.  "  She  don't  know  anything  about  business. 
You  can't  go  to  her  for  your  rent!  It's — it's  inhuman  to 
harry  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Pallinder  about  rent.  Leave  her 
out  of  it  at  any  rate,  it's  the  least  you  can  do." 

"  You,  sir,  get  me  my  gum-shoes,"  said  Steven  determin- 
edly, as  the  door  once  more  swung  to  admit  Huddesley.  It  is 
possible  that  this  discreet  and  admirably  trained  individual 
had  been  improving  his  knowledge  of  Doctor  Vardaman's 
acquaintances,  just  outside  the  key-hole;  he  overlooked 
Steven's  orders,  and  went  up  to  the  doctor  with  a  perturbed 

countenance.  "  Doctor  Vardaman,   if  you  please,   sir " 

there  followed  a  whisper  charged  with  meaning. 

"  Oh,  the  devil!  "  said  the  old  gentleman  desperately.  He 
looked  around.  "  Steven,  Gwynne,  do  sit  down,  both  of  you 
— why,  yes,  of  course,  Huddesley,  certainly  you  can  bring 
her  in — and — and  here's  the  key  of  the  wine-cellar,  Huddes- 


THE    TENANTS  127 

ley ;  "  he  was  quite  flustered.  The  others  forgot  their  excite- 
ment a  moment  to  wonder  at  him.  "  Bring  her  in,  Huddesley, 
don't  keep  a  lady  standing,"  said  the  doctor,  speaking  testily 
in  his  confusion.  Huddesley  was  keenly  alive  to  the  dramatic 
aspect  of  the  meeting;  he  went  ceremoniously  out  and  cere- 
moniously returned,  spreading  the  door  with  a  flourish. 
"Mrs.  Pallinder!"  he  announced. 


CHAPTER    TEN 

IT   was   a   coup-de-theatre,    falling   as   pat   as   if   pre- 
arranged, an  unthinkable  accident ;  the  melodrama  was 
becoming    entirely    too    melodramatic,    according    to 
Doctor  Vardaman's  notion.   "  Good  Heavens  !  "  he  said 
to  himself,  irritated ;  "  this  sort  of  thing  doesn't  happen — it 
has  no  business  to  happen ! "  He  had  what  is  perhaps  the 
best  tact  in  the  world,  the  tact  of  a  kind  heart ;  but  a  plain 
man's  experience  does  not  prepare  him  for  moments  of  such 
awkwardness,  and  the  doctor's  self-possession  for  once  left 
him    in    the   lurch.  He   advanced   to   meet   Mrs.   Pallinder, 
blunderingly  putting   on  his   eye-glasses,  and  blunderingly 
dropping  them  again  to  the  length  of  their  black  silk  ribbon, 
stuttering  out  a  welcome,  apprehensive  of  Steven's  next  move, 
out  of  patience  with  the  whole  grotesque  and  intolerable  sit- 
uation, and  fearful  that  he  showed  it.  Mrs.  Pallinder  could 
hardly  have  failed  to  overhear  something  of  what  was  going 
forward;  Steven's  loud  voice  had  been  raised  almost  to  its 
furthest  pitch,  and  Gwynne's,  if  he  was  more  self-contained, 
was  still  forcible  and  distinct  enough.  Neither  one  could  at 
once  adjust  his  threatening  brows  to  a  placid,  scarcely  even 
a  natural  expression,  and,  for  that  matter,  the  silence  be- 
trayed as  much  as  their  speech.  She  would  have  needed  to  be 
blind  or  deaf  not  to  know  that  her  presence  came  amiss — 
and  blind  and  deaf  Mrs.  Pallinder  promptly  became!  It  was 
a  feat;  her  assumption  of  unconsciousness  was  too  perfect, 
but,  if  Gwynne  and  the  doctor  were  undeceived,  they  were 


THE    TENANTS  129 

still  profoundly  grateful,  and  Steven  was  reduced  to  a  kind 
of  pathetic  diffidence.  The  old  man  felt,  in  his  dim  way,  that 
he  had  no  arms  against  this  dazzling  feminine  creature ;  her 
manners,  her  dress,  even  her  delicate  and  finished  beauty 
frightened  him ;  he  might  as  well  plan  to  sue  a  fairy  for  rent 
as  this  detached  and  brilliant  personage.  "  Gwynne  could 
have  let  the  poor  old  boy  go  in  peace,"  thought  Doctor 
Vardaman,  observing  Steven's  altered  bearing ;  "  he  never 
would  have  faced  Mrs.  Pallinder — I  doubt  if  he  could  have 
stood  up  to  the  colonel ! " 

"  Don't  get  up,  gentlemen,  don't  stand  for  just  me!  "  said 
Mrs.  Pallinder,  looking  around  on  everybody  and  beginning 
to  loosen  her  furs.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Gwynne,  what  a  nice  surprise 
to  find  you  here !  Doctor  Vardaman,  you  didn't  tell  me  you 
were  expecting  Mr.  Gwynne.  You  see  I'm  an  old  story  to  the 
doctor,  Mr.  Gwynne,  I  drop  in  almost  every  day — I  wonder 
he  doesn't  run  at  the  sight  of  me — it  must  be  a  relief  as  well 
as  a  pleasure  to  him  to  have  you  come  in  once  in  a  while.  Why 
don't  you  come  to  see  me,  ever?  We're  so  lonely  out  here — 
the  colonel  and  I  depend  on  the  doctor.  Nobody  ever  comes 
to  see  two  rusty  old  creatures  like  us.  Nobody  but  you,  that 
is,  Mr.  Peters,  you  treat  us  with  the  respect  due  our  age." 
She  gave  him  a  laughing  glance;  Gwynne  knelt  down?  red- 
dening and  incoherent,  to  take  off  her  overshoes.  The  doctor 
had  space  to  reflect  that  a  pretty  woman,  be  she  never  so 
well  or  so  long  married,  seldom  wholly  ceases  to  be  a  coquette. 
And  all  this  while  Steven  stood,  spellbound  into  silence,  wait- 
ing for  someone  else  to  sit  down.  He  would  have  liked  to  be 
gallant,  cynical,  daring,  epigrammatic;  Steven's  notions  of 
society  were  founded  on  Bulwer-Lytton's  novels,  with  a  dash 
of   Reade,   Disraeli,   and   Charles   Lever.    He   had   revolved 


130  THE    TENANTS 

more  than  one  graceful  yet  stinging  speech  for  the  humbling 
of  the  Pallinders,  figuring  them  brought  down  to  a  species 
of  admiring  submission.  Lo,  the  hour  was  arrived,  but  where 
was  the  man?  All  his  eloquence  had  stolen  away;  he  was 
taken  at  unawares,  tongue-tied  in  an  awkwardness  that  at 
once  incensed  and  humiliated  him.  He  almost  envied  Gwynne 
his  uncalculated  ease. 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Mazie  this  morning,  doctor,"  said 
Mrs.  Pallinder,  resolutely  keeping  the  conversation  going, 
and  including  Steven,  as  it  were,  by  main  force.  "My 
daughter,  you  know,  Mr.  Gwynne.  You've  been  at  your  coun- 
try-place all  winter,  haven't  you?"  It  was  thus  that  Mrs. 
Pallinder  picturesquely  referred  to  Steven's  ramshackle  resi- 
dence ;  and  on  her  lips  the  phrase  had  a  richness  that  pleased 
him  ineffably.  "  Then  you  don't  know  that  my  daughter  has 
been  away  nearly  two  months — she  went  a  little  after  the 
holidays — and,  oh,  Mr.  Gwynne,  did  you  hear  about  the 
robbery  ?  " 

"  She  don't  have  to  make  talk  about  the  weather — trust  a 
woman !  "  said  the  doctor  inwardly,  both  satirical  and  admir- 
ing. He  had  an  instant  of  suspense,  wondering  what  use 
Steven  would  make  of  his  opportunity — and  Steven  was  as 
mild  as  a  lamb !  He  cleared  his  throat,  and  said  yes,  he 
had  heard  about  the  robbery — they  didn't  get  anything  after 
all,  did  they?  He  understood — that  is,  the  paper  said — he 
hadn't  been  in  town  to  talk  to  anybody — that  they  were  after 
Mrs.  Pallinder's  diamonds.  There  had  been  a  picture  in  the 
paper  of  the  necklace — he  was  glad  they  hadn't  got  anything. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  know  you  approved  of  diamonds,  Mr. 
Gwynne,  I  wouldn't  have  dared  to  wear  mine  before  you," 
said  Mrs.  Pallinder,  tempting  Providence.  "  Everybody  says 


THE    TENANTS  131 

you're  so  severe  and  critical — and — and  like  all  the  rest  of 
you  men — you  laugh  at  us  poor  women  shamefully,  yes,  and 
tyrannise  over  us,  too,  you  know  you  do !  "  she  went  on,  dis- 
playing a  discernment  for  which  nobody  would  have  given  her 
credit. 

"  Madame,"  said  Steven,  highly  flattered ;  "  you  mistake 
me — beauty  unadorned " 

"  Oh,  but  Mr.  Gwynne,  I'm  not  in  that  class !  Now  come 
up  to  dinner  to-night,  and  I'll  put  on  every  diamond  I  have, 
and  you'll  see  I'll  look  the  better  for  it."  She  raised  her  hand. 
"  But  don't  involve  me  in  an  argument — I  can't  hold  my 
ground  with  you,  you  know — you're  too  clever  for  me — I 
remember  the  last  time,  when  you  demolished  me  utterly — 
you  told  me  we  didn't  need  money  to  get  along — think  of 
that,  Doctor  Vardaman,  he  actually  told  me  we  didn't  need 
to  use  money  at  all,  6  the  circulating  medium,'  wasn't  that 
what  you  called  it,  Mr.  Gwynne?  See  how  well  I  remember! 
And,  Doctor,  before  he  got  through,  he  persuaded  me,  sure 
enough,  that  we  didn't  need  money — I  believed  him — at  least 
I  had  nothing  to  say ! " 

Now  how,  how,  I  ask  the  unprejudiced  and  fair-minded 
observer,  how  could  any  gentleman — of  the  name  of  Gwynne 
— come  at  so  winningly  simple  a  woman  as  Mrs.  Pallinder 
with  a  low  question  of  rent?  "Pay  or  quit"  indeed!  The 
thing  was  inconceivable,  the  moment  inappropriate. 

"You  will  come  to  dinner,  won't  you,  Mr.  Gwynne?  Mr. 
Peters,  I've  a  crow  to  pick  with  you,  for  never  bringing  him. 
Oh,  I  know  you  hate  society,  Mr.  Gwynne,  but  just  for 
once " 

Steven  faltered;  he  would  have  accepted  the  invitation  in 
another  moment — and  if  he  had,  who  knows  how  this  story 


132  THE    TENANTS 

might     have    ended? — but     Doctor    Vardaman     intervened 

briskly. 

"  Steven's  got  to  stay  here,  madame,  I  asked  him  first," 
he  said,  and  clapped  the  other  on  the  shoulder.  Perhaps  the 
doctor  was  a  shade  more  cordial  even  than  his  nature 
prompted;  he  felt  a  great  pity  for  Steven,  and  a  certain 
shame  at  the  cheap  and  flimsy  devices  by  which  his  poor  old 
friend  could  be  overpowered.  Mrs.  Pallinder  made  a  little 
mouth  at  him. 

"  You  always  have  your  way,  Doctor,  you've  gotten  the 
better  of  me  ever  so  many  times.  You've  got  Huddesley,  for 
instance,"  she  said,  not  disdaining  to  bestow  an  oeillade  on  the 
servant  as  he  stood  before  her,  offering  sherry  in  the  doctor's 
little  old  trumpet-shaped  glasses ;  he  acknowledged  the  com- 
pliment by  a  respectful  grin.  "  And  I'm  simply  having  the 
most  awful  time — you  don't  know  of  a  good  cook,  do  you, 
Huddesley?  " 

"  No,  ma'am.  Hi  don't  know  hanybody  'ere,  ma'am,"  said 
Huddesley,  with  a  faintly  superior  air;  and  passed  on  to 
Gwynne  with  his  silver  tray.  It  was  true;  he  held  himself 
apart  from,  and  rather  above,  other  servants.  The  doctor 
had  often  remarked  it  with  an  amused  sympathy. 

"  Don't  you  ?  Isn't  that  a  pity — I  want  so  much  to  get 
settled  in  the  kitchen  before  Mazie  comes  home — well,  if  you 
hear  of  anyone,  you'll  remember  me,  Huddesley,  won't  you  ?  " 
Mrs.  Pallinder  held  her  glass  in  one  hand,  and  shook  a  letter 
out  of  her  muff  with  the  other.  "  Mazie's  letter,  Doctor 
Vardaman — she'll  be  back  in  a  week — she's  going  to  bring 
a  friend — the  most  English  name — one  of  those  hyphenated 
names,  you  know.  Her  father's  one  of  the  secretaries  at  the 
Legation.    Where — oh,  here  it  is.    '  Muriel '  isn't  that  Eng- 


THE    TENANTS  133 

lishf  But  just  listen  to  the  rest  of  it! — '  Ponsonby-Baxter.' 
Her  father  is  Sir  Julian — no,  it's  Lucien — no,  Mr.  Peters,  I 
believe  my  eyes  are  failing — can  you  make  out  what  that 
word  is?  " 

Gwynne,  after  a  solemn  inspection,  pronounced  it  to  be 
Llewellyn. 

"  I  notice  all  these  young  men  read  my  daughter's  hand- 
writing a  great  deal  better  than  I  can,  for  some  mysterious 
reason,  Mr.  Gwynne,"  said  Mrs.  Pallinder  pointedly,  to 
Steven,  with  her  pretty  laugh.  And  Steven  actually  laughed, 
too!  Where  was  his  animosity?  Where  his  anathemas?  He 
was  at  ease,  mild,  pleased,  interested.  In  fact,  Mrs.  Pallin- 
der, looking  hardly  a  day  over  thirty-five,  with  her  fresh 
voice,  her  softly  bright  eyes,  her  trim  and  supple  figure,  was 
an  impossible  sort  of  person  for  the  role  of  mother.  There 
was  a  charming  absurdity  in  her  continual  half-humorous, 
half-sentimental  allusions  to  her  years  and  infirmities. 
"  When  they  get  here,  I'm  thinking  of  having  a  little  com- 
pany in  the  house,  Mr.  Peters,"  she  went  on,  with  a  con- 
fidential glance  that  magically  comprehended  everybody  in 
the  room.  "  Some  of  the  girls,  like  Kitty  Oldham,  for  in- 
stance, and  your  cousin  Marian,  of  course,  if  her  mother 
will  let  her  come — I  always  say,  Mr.  Gwynne,  that  it's  no 
wonder  all  the  girls  in  your  family  are  so  well-bred  and  have 
such  lovely  manners — Gwynne  manners,  Colonel  Pallinder 
calls  them — it's  no  wonder  they're  all  that  way,  they've  had 
such  careful  mothers,  and  such  training!  It's  my  despair — 
I'll  never  make  Mazie  that  way !  I  should  like  to  go  to  school 
to  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne  myself  for  a  while,  only  she  wouldn't 
have  an  old  thing  like  me  around,  trying  to  copy  those  beau- 
tiful, finished  ways  she  has — the  most  elegant  woman  I  know ! 


134  THE    TENANTS 

I  think  a  little  party  in  the  house  like  that  will  make  it 
pleasant  for  Miss — Miss  Baxter,  I  suppose  we'll  call  her — 
the  whole  name's  a  little  too  much — Ponsonby-Baxter !  And 
now  the  colonel  says  he'll  have  to  have  some  men  in  the  house 
in  self-defence.  Such  a  houseful  of  women!  It  bores  a  man, 
I  really  think — oh,  now,  you  needn't  look  that  way,  Mr. 
Gwynne,  you  know  it  bores  men  sometimes  to  have  too  many 
women  around.  So  we  want  to  have  some  of  the  young  men, 
t00 — of  course  you,  Mr.  Peters,  and  do  you  think  Mr.  Lewis 
would  come?  And  then  there's  Mr.  Taylor — the  one  you  all 
call  J.  B.,  I  mean.  There're  those  three  large  rooms  in  the 
wing  at  the  back,  and  the  small  one  over  the  hall — plenty  of 
room,  don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Gwynne?  You  ought  to  know 
how  many  the  house  will  hold." 

Steven  looked  important  and  considered.  He  remembered 
when  Governor  Gwynne  had  entertained  the  Whig  Cam- 
paign Committee  in — in — he  forgot  the  year,  but  it  was  when 
Van  Buren  was  elected;  every  room  in  the  house  had  been 
occupied,  and  cots  in  the  library — you  could  put  ten  cots  in 

the  library — oh,  easily  ten,  end  to  end,  you  know — 

"  Cots !  Oh,  I  don't  think  we'll  need  cots,  you  know,  with 

young  ladies  in  the  party " 

Steven  did  not  hear  her.  He  was  launched  on  an  accurate 
description  of  the  festivities,  to  which  Mrs.  Pallinder  listened 
with  a  caressing  attention.  How  much  had  she  overheard? 
Or  how  much  guessed?  Possibly  she  would  have  been  as  pains- 
takingly gracious  to  Steven  in  any  event;  to  look  her  best, 
to  act  her  best,  was  Mrs.  Pallinder's  trade,  and  you  may 
trust  me  it  was  not  always  an  easy  one.  "  So  interesting, 
isn't  it?  Oh,  it's  all  very  well  for  you  to  smile,  Doctor  Varda- 
man,  you  remember  all  this,  and  it  seems  very  ordinary  to 


THE    TENANTS  135 

you,  no  doubt.  But  it's  rarely  one  hears  such  reminiscences 
— you've  met  so  many  celebrated  people,  Mr.  Gwynne — the 
Governor  knew  everybody,  of  course,  in  his  position,  and  then 
he  was  a  famous  man  himself.  Oh,  now  I'm  here,  and  have  a 
chance  at  last,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  again  about  that  time 
the  Governor  gave  away  the  crimson  velvet  waistcoat  with 
gold  bees  embroidered  on  it — don't  you  remember,  you  told 
it  to  me  the  first  time  we  met,  and  I  tried  to  tell  it  to  the 
colonel  afterwards,  but  I  got  it  all  mixed  up.  He  gave  it  to 
Tom  Corwin,  didn't  he?  And  then  the  darky  waiter  got  hold 
of  it  somehow,  and  wore  it  to  the  party?  I  laughed  so  when 
I  came  to  that  part,  I  couldn't  go  on  with  the  story " 

Doctor  Vardaman  listened  between  relief  and  a  singularly 
unreasonable  resentment ;  the  business  of  pacifying  Steven 
seemed  ludicrously  easy,  now.  His  weaknesses  and  the  adroit- 
ness with  which  they  were  approached,  were  alike  contempti- 
ble. Anything,  of  course,  he  admitted  unwillingly,  anything 
was  better  than  having  a  scene ;  they  should  be  thankful  they 
were  so  well  past  that  danger.  Yet  he  wondered  privately 
what  Gwynne  thought  of  this  dexterous  jockeying;  a  woman's 
performances  in  what  she  chooses  to  consider  the  art  of  diplo- 
macy unveiled,  seldom  fail  of  moving  the  masculine  onlooker 
to  mingled  wonder,  scorn,  and  pity.  The  creature  has  the 
cunning  of  her  feebleness;  how  she  does  juggle  with  honour 
and  decency!  How  lightly  she  trips  it  along  the  unstable 
wire !  What  capital  she  makes  of  her  toy  emotions,  her  sham 
beliefs  and  unbeliefs !  There  is  even  something  admirable  in 
her  serene  assurance  that  the  end  always  justifies  the  means. 

Steven  may  not  have  talked  himself,  or  been  talked,  into  a 
complete  forgetfulness  of  his  errand;  but  at  least  the  evil 
hour  was  a  while  postponed.  He  saw  Mrs.  Pallinder  leave 


136  THE    TENANTS 

the  house  escorted  by  Gwynne  through  the  falling  dusk,  with 
genial  unconcern ;  and  reiterated  to  the  doctor  as  they  sat  at 
table  that  evening  his  convicition  that  Mrs.  Pallinder  was  a 
very  polished  lady !  Thus  did  the  afternoon  finish ;  never  was 
there  a  tamer  sequel  to  a  more  alarming  prelude.  If  the 
doctor  had  received  some  disquieting  revelations,  he  could 
still  put  them  from  his  mind  as  no  affair  of  his  ;  and  if  a  vexed 
anxiety  about  Gwynne  lurked  within  him,  it  needed  no  great 
effort  to  stifle  or  banish  that,  too,  momentarily,  at  any  rate. 
The  boy  knew  what  he  was  about — laissez  faire!  he  thought, 
and  surrended  himself  to  a  long  evening  of  Steven  and  the 
circulating  medium  with  thankfulness  and  even  some  amuse- 
ment. 

"  You — you're  ever  so  kind  to  poor  old  Cousin  Steven, 
Mrs.  Pallinder,"  Gwynne  said  to  her,  with  a  good  deal  of 
feeling,  as  they  parted  in  the  shadow  of  the  Parthenon  front. 
His  voice  trembled  a  little;  and  perhaps  the  lady  let  him 
hold  her  hand  a  trifle  longer  than  etiquette  prescribes. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  she  said  with  gentle  emphasis,  "  my  dear 

boy,  don't  /  know If  there  is  any  way  I  can  think  of  to 

make  a  person  like  that  happier,  wouldn't  I  gladly  do  it? 
That  seems  to  me  a  very  small  thing — a  woman's  duty — what 
else  are  we  for?  I  would  do  it  for  you  anyhow,  even  if  I 
didn't  feel  so  sorry  for  him."  She  melted  into  the  house 
without  waiting  to  gauge  the  effect  of  this  touching  speech, 
and  the  young  man  went  off  down  the  avenue  with  his  head  in 
the  stars. 

All  very  wrong  and  very  improper,  no  doubt !  But,  on  the 
whole,  Gwynne's  conduct,  it  seems  to  me,  was  most  edifying — 
a  pattern  for  any  youth  in  his  position.  If  Mrs.  Pallinder  had 
been  the  angel  he  thought  her,  he  could  not  have  borne  him- 


THE    TENANTS  137 

self  toward  her  with  more  respect.  A  young  man's  first  love, 
or  let  us  call  it,  his  first  amorous  fancy,  is  free  from  gross- 
ness.  There  was  something  spiritual  and  exalted  in  Gwynne's 
devotion ;  I  believe  he  figured  himself,  foolishly  and  egotisti- 
cally enough,  her  knight,  faithful  without  hope  of  reward, 
and  gloried  in  his  anguish.  If  he  stood  between  her  and  the 
all-too-righteous  exactions  of  his  relatives  and  co-heirs,  if  he 
shielded  her  from  the  vials  of  their  wrath,  at  the  cost  of 
some  squirmings  of  conscience,  still  I  am  loath  to  blame 
him. 

There  was,  of  course,  no  excuse  for  him,  yet Mrs. 

Pallinder  was  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,  and  married  to 
boot;  but  she  was  a  very  beautiful  woman,  and  he  was  soft- 
hearted and  sentimental,  and  had  had  a  harsh  and  loveless 
life.  How  can  I  sit  in  judgment  on  him?  Was  I  so  wise  at 
twenty-four?  For  Mrs.  Pallinder  herself,  I  say  and  stick  to 
it,  she  was  a  perfectly  good  woman ;  having  discovered  that 
she  could  twist  Gwynne  around  her  finger,  she  cannot  be 
blamed,  in  the  circumstances,  for  twisting  him.  The  men 
may  well  sneer  at  our  tools,  but  we  must  even  use  the 
tools  you  let  us  have,  gentlemen,  and  sometimes  you  thrust 
the  haft  into  our  hands.  No  woman  can  make  a  fool  of  a 
man,  I  think,  unless  the  man  lends  himself  whole-heartedly  to 
the  job.  And  there  are  times  when  she  goes  at  it  with  little 
relish. 

Was  it  pleasant  for  Mrs.  Pallinder  to  blarney  Gwynne 
into  f orgetf ulness ?  Did  she  enjoy  listening  to  old  Steven's 
dreary,  everlasting  talk?  I  think  that  mean  necessity  galled 
her  at  times  as  much  as  it  would  have  the  highest-minded 
reader  of  this  page.  We  must  suppose  she  loved  her  swindling 
rascal  of  a  husband,  for  I  detect  a  dingy  loyalty  in  her 


138  THE    TENANTS 

method  of  supporting  him.  So  he  cleaves  to  her  and  cherishes 
her,  a  woman  cares  not  a  jot  whether  her  husband  be  honest 
or  not ;  she  will  uphold  him  by  such  sorry  arts  as  he  himself 
will  look  upon  with  disfavour.  So  terrific  is  her  moral  obliq- 
uity that  she  will  lie,  wheedle,  cozen,  cheat,  with  an  unruffled 
mind  to  protect  or  further  him ;  displaying  a  distorted  integ- 
rity of  purpose  that  compels  our  grudging  admiration.  Let 
anyone  who  doubts  these  statements  ask  the  wives  and  mothers 
who  unsparingly  condemn  Mrs.  Pallinder's  line  of  conduct, 
what  they  would  have  had  her  do?  Give  up  the  game,  and 
so  betray  her  husband's  interests,  or  engage  in  a  little  harm- 
less flirtation  to  put  off  the  hour  of  his  reckoning?  You  will 
find  that  these  virtuous  ladies  will  dodge  the  question  utterly. 
They  will  indignantly  and  scornfully  reject  either  course 
— yet  they  will  not  be  able  to  think  of  any  other,  and  therein 
you  have  your  answer.  I  remember  once  hearing  Doctor 
Vardaman  solemnly  declare  and  vow  that  he  believed  nine- 
tenths  of  the  shiftless,  incompetent,  scoundrelly  men  in  the 
world  were  kept  going  in  their  profitless  or  criminal  careers 
solely  by  the  co-operation  of  some  fool  of  a  woman — "  an 
honest  woman,  at  that !  "  he  added,  with  a  laugh. 

Gwynne  walked  away  in  a  state  of  exaltation  that  obliter- 
ated from  his  mind  all  such  sordid  and  petty  considerations 
as  twenty-four  hundred  dollars  of  rent  in  arrears.  At  the 
end  of  the  avenue  he  turned  to  look  back,  and  saw  a  light 
spring  up  in  the  bedroom  window  he  knew  to  be  Mrs. 
Pallinder's ;  he  walked  on  slowly,  watching  it  with  what  high- 
coloured  and  high-flown  fancies !  Miranda,  I  am  afraid,  is 
a  name  that  defeats  the  muse ;  but  Gwynne  continued  in  this 
Romeo  attitude  and  meditation  until  he  crashed  into  a  weary, 
homing  labourer,  a  resident  of  Bucktown,  most  probably. 


THE    TENANTS  139 

faring  along  through  the  twilight  with  a  whitewash  bucket 
and  brushes. 

"  Hy-yah!  Keerful,  cahn't  yo'?  Yo'  'd  oughta  look  whar 
yo's  gVine,  boss  !  " 

Gwynne  started  at  the  words;  he  ought  to  look  where  he 
was  going!  He  went  on,  slowly,  frowning  a  little,  with  his 
head  bent. 


CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

1ENT  dragged  or  slipped  or  scurried  along  according 
to  the  varying  tempers  of  those  that  watched  it 
j  go ;  of  late  years  the  speed  of  its  passage  has  in- 
^"  creased  noticeably,  it  seems  to  me;  successive 
Lents  shove  one  another  off  the  stage  with  an  alarming 
celerity.  But  most  of  us  voted  it  dismally  slow  in  those  days. 
A  church  entertainment  was  given,  in  which  Mrs.  Pallinder 
figured  in  tableaux  as  Ruth,  with  white  draperies,  her  hair 
bound  up  with  fillets,  and  a  sheaf  of  wheat  (it  was  really 
pampas  grass)  in  her  beautiful  bare  white  arms.  She  looked, 
undoubtedly,  as  much  like  Ruth  as  she  had  like  Astarte;  that 
is  to  say,  not  at  all.  But  people  were  unfeignedly  delighted 
this  time,  and  not  without  reason;  the  curtain  had  to  be 
rung  up  repeatedly  on  "  Ruth  and  Boaz."  I  thought,  to  be 
truthful,  that  her  features  seemed  hard  and  sharp  in  the 
strong  calcium-light;  perhaps  she  was  a  little  too  old  to 
impersonate  a  character  like  Ruth.  But  Teddy  Johns  as- 
sured me  vehemently  that  she  was  ideal.  "  Beau'ful  creature, 
Mis'  Pallinder — hie — s'prisin' — Ruth — 'Starte — Greek  Slave 
— no,  no,  didn't  mean  that,  of  course — hie — Greek  statue — 
always  doin'  somethin' — Pallinders,  somethin'  new,  all  time !  " 
he  said,  meeting  me  in  the  passageway  of  Trinity  Parish 
House,  where  the  entertainment  was  given.  I  do  not  know 
where  he  had  been;  it  is  generally  difficult  to  draw  young 
men  to  church-tableaux,  and  there  were  not  many  there. 
Teddy  had  an  air  of  surprise  at  finding  himself  in  the  audi- 

140 


THE    TENANTS  141 

ence;  his  face  was  very  much  flushed,  he  laughed  loud  and 
inappropriately;  and  Judge  Lewis  came  with  a  grave  face, 
and  took  him  by  the  arm  and  pulled  him  away,  muttering 
some  apology  to  me.  Judge  Lewis  was  a  vestryman;  I  saw 
him  talking  to  some  of  the  others  afterwards,  and  their  grey 
heads  wagged  solemnly;  the  judge  could  not  have  been  tell- 
ing one  of  those  humorous  anecdotes  for  which  he  was  so 
celebrated. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Mazie  at  last  came  home; 
and  she  lived  up  to  the  reputation  that  Teddy  had  given  the 
Pallinders  of  always  doing  something  new.  Doctor  Varda- 
man  assured  her  gallantly  that  she  was  like  the  angel  that 
came  down  and  stirred  up  the  Pool  of  Bethesda — "  we  were 
all  stagnating,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  in  his  kind  mock- 
serious  manner ;  and  Mazie  smiled  and  lifted  her  eyes  at  him, 
without,  I  dare  say,  understanding  in  the  least  where  or  what 
the  Pool  of  Bethesda  was.  She  brought  with  her  Miss  Muriel 
Ponsonby-Baxter ;  and,  following  upon  their  arrival,  Mrs. 
Pallinder  collected  her  house  party.  Most  of  the  young  people 
she  asked  caught  eagerly  at  the  invitation;  you  may  laugh, 
or  perhaps  jeer,  but  house  parties  were  not  then  the  affair 
of  everyday  occurrence  they  have  since  become — not  in  our 
corner  of  the  world,  certainly.  We  all  felt,  delightedly,  as  if 
we  were  living  in  an  English  novel — one  of  "  The  Duchess' ' 
for  choice. 

"  You  know  we're  going  to  have  private  theatricals  in  the 
ballroom,"  Mazie  told  everybody.  "  The  girls  and  men  in  the 
house  will  all  be  in  it,  so  we  can  have  rehearsals  any  time. 
And  papa  is  going  to  have  a  stage  built  with  footlights  and 
a  curtain.  We'll  ask  everyone,  of  course,  and  dance  after- 
wards. I  bought  the  favours  for  the  german  in  New  York 


142  THE    TENANTS 

coming  home,  you  know.  They're  simply  too  sweet  for 
any  use." 

("I  baought  the  favuhs  foh  the  juhman  in  New  Yawhk, 
yuh  knaow.  Theah  simply  too  sweet  foh  any  use,"  was  the 
way  she  said  it,  but  I  shall  not  attempt  to  reproduce  Mazie's 
speech.  It  had  a  kind  of  drawling  vivacity;  and  the  final 
sentence  was  in  the  slang  of  the  day — very  fresh  and  spirited 
it  sounded  then,  too !) 

Mazie  Pallinder  was  not  a  pretty  girl ;  she  was  too  tall  and 
lank;  and,  except  when  she  got  her  cheeks  touched  up,  too 
pallid  with  her  ink-black  hair.  But  she  had  a  certain  air 
of  lazy  distinction,  helped  out  by  a  real  talent  for  dressing 
herself,  and  an  unlimited  purse — maybe  an  unlimited  indiffer- 
ence to  bills  and  tradesmen  would  be  a  better  way  of  put- 
ting it. 

"  The  first  thing  on  the  programme  is  to  be  '  William 
Tell,'  "  she  said.  "  That's  to  have  just  men  in  it,  you  know. 
I  think  it's  always  best  to  have  a  lot  more  men  than  girls, 
and  make  them  stand  around.  That's  the  way  it  is  in  the 
South,  New  Orleans,  or  Charleston,  or  anywhere  I've  ever 
been.  You  see  them  lined  up  all  around  the  room  waiting  a 
chance,  at  dances,  you  know.  All  the  girls  have  to  split  every 
waltz." 

Bewildering  dream  of  bliss!  Somebody,  recovering  from 
the  contemplation,  wanted  to  know  what  "  William  Tell " 
would  be  like  with  only  men  in  it? 

"  Oh,  I've  talked  that  all  over  with  J.  B."  said  Mazie.  "  It 
was  his  suggestion,  you  know.  They  gave  it  at  college,  his 
senior  year,  and,  of  course,  all  the  parts  were  done  by  men. 
He  said  it  was  simply  great.  It's  a  take-off  of  the  real 
'William    Tell.'  What    do    you    think?  Doctor    Vardaman 


THE    TENANTS  143 

asked  if  it  was  the  real  *  Tell,'  and  he  said  there  was  a 
beautiful  adagio  for  the  horn  in  the  overture!  I  simply 
screamed — I  laughed  till  I  nearly  fell  over.  You  see  the 
funny  thing  is  there  is  a  horn — but  it's  a  dinner  horn !  Archie 
Lewis  comes  on  with  it  when  he  sings  his  topical  song. 
Archie's  to  be  '  Tell,'  you  know.  He's  got  a  hit  on  everyone 
in  town — they'll  all  be  here  in  the  audience,  of  course.  It 

begins : 

"  •  I'm  a  horny — horny — horny-handed 
SON  OF  TOIL ! 
From  Maine  to  California 
You  couldn't  find  a  hornier, 
And — and — I'm 

I  can't  remember  the  rest  of  it.  He  and  J.  B.  wrote  the 
verses — it's  awfully  funny,  don't  you  think,  Muriel?  We've 
seen  them  go  over  parts  of  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Muriel  tepidly.  We  all  looked  at  her  with 
some  curiosity ;  lying  back  in  one  of  Mazie's  profuse  rocking- 
chairs,  she  seemed  very  large  by  contrast  with  the  rest  of 
us.  She  had  long  round  arms,  long  sloping  thighs,  long  hands 
and  feet,  a  great  deal  bigger  than  any  of  ours,  but  well- 
shaped,  in  so  just  a  proportion  one  hardly  noticed  their  size. 
I  think  I  never  saw  so  beautiful  a  woman.  Beside  her  large 
classic  calm,  we  were  as  a  tribe  of  little  gesticulating  marion- 
ettes. She  listened  to  our  facile  laughter,  our  high,  excited 
voices,  with  a  grave  and  rather  wondering  tolerance ;  no  one 
ever  saw  her  laugh.  We  decided  it  was  a  pose  with  her,  think- 
ing she  was  conscious,  very  likely,  that  outright  mirth  or  any 
other  visible  emotion  would  somehow  become  her  ill.  You 
cannot  imagine  the  Bartholdi  Liberty  laughing.  Such  reg- 
ularity of  features,  such  steadfast,  intrepid  eyes  had  Muriel ; 


144  THE    TENANTS 

and  so  did  she  oppose  to  passing  people  and  events,  silence 
and  an  unmoved  brow.  I  give  the  idea  that  she  was  dull;  it 
was  not  so.  She  thought  as  much  and  as  much  to  the  point  as 
any  of  us ;  she  only  lacked  our  fevered  sprightliness. 

Mazie  went  on  expounding:  "Teddy  Johns  is  to  be  Mrs. 
Gessler,  and  Gwynne  Peters  is  Mrs.  Tell,  or  Matilda,  I  for- 
get which,  and  J.  B.'s  young  *  Tell.'  In  the  play  his  name's 
Jemmy,  of  all  things  I  do  think  that's  the  funniest — Jemmy ! 
J.  B.  said  when  they  found  that  in  the  libretto,  they  said  it 
would  be  a  shame  to  change  it.  I  believe  in  the  original  opera, 
a  girl  always  sings  the  part.  J.  B.'s  all  the  time  wanting 
someone  to  hear  him  speak  his  piece,  or  give  him  a  drink  of 
water — things  like  that,  you  know,  as  if  he  were  about  four 
years  old.  And  he  gets  lost  and  says  to  the  policeman  that 
he's  Jemmy  Tell — I  don't  know  why  you  want  to  laugh,  but 
it's  so  silly  you  can't  help  it.  He  must  be  six-feet-two  if 
he's  an  inch,  and  he's  going  to  wear  a  little  white  pique  kilt 
to  his  knees  with  a  sash  and  short  socks  and  ankle-ties,  and 
a  red  apple  fastened  on  his  head  kind  of  skew-wow  over  one 
ear,  with  an  elastic  under  his  chin.  Simply  too  funny  for 
any  use !  " 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  can  do  it,"  said  Muriel.  "  Fancy !  A 
kilt !  I  think  it's  horrid ! "  She  spoke  with  unexpected 
energy ;  the  lovely  English  rose  in  her  cheeks  suddenly  deep- 
ened. Every  other  girl  in  the  room  wondered  what  it  was 
that  had  waked  her  up ;  and  Mazie,  who  was  manicuring  her 
nails  (she  introduced  that  art  among  us),  paused  with  the 
polisher  suspended,  and  gave  her  friend  an  acute  fleeting 
glance. 

"  I  don't  believe  J.  B.  minds,  or  he  wouldn't  get  himself 
up  that  way,"  she  remarked  airily.  "  We  can  stand  it  if  he 


THE    TENANTS  145 

can.  He's  got  an  awfully  good  figure.  After  all,  the  kilt 
isn't  much  different  from  a  Roman  costume — like  what  John 
McCullough  wears  in  '  Virginius,'  you  know.  J.  B.'s  on  to  his 
own  good  points ;  he's  not  going  to  make  a  guy  of  himself — 
catch  a  man  doing  that.  '  Tell's  '  sort  of  comic  opera,  and 
do  you  know,  girls,  honestly,  I  can't  see  but  that  it's  every 
bit  as  good  as  '  Olivette  ' — you  haven't  seen  that  yet.  They'll 
have  it  out  here  by  next  winter,  I  suppose ;  it's  always  a  year 
before  things  get  West  from  New  York.  We  thought  we'd 
have  the  other  play  afterwards — they  aren't  either  of  them 
long.  That  will  give  all  the  men  a  chance  to  get  into  their 
dress-clothes  before  the  dancing  begins.  Teddy  and  J.  B. 
are  both  in  the  second  one,  too.  It's  called  '  Mrs.  Tanker- 
ville's  Tiara.'  " 

"  Where  did  you  get  it?  Public  Library?  " 

"  Oh,  gracious,  no.  I  shouldn't  have  known  what  to  ask 
for,  you  know;  why,  there've  been  millions  and  millions  of 
plays  written — did  you  know  that?  Just  millions!  No,  Doc- 
tor Vardaman  lent  me  the  book;  I  went  down  to  the  house 
and  looked  over  ever  so  many  with  him.  You  ought  to  see 
the  doctor's  library;  I'd  never  been  in  it  before;  I  believe 
where  we've  got  one  book,  he  has  twenty  at  the  very  least. 
They  go  all  around  the  room  in  shelves  with  the  busts  of 
people  on  top,  Shakespeare,  I  suppose,  and — and — well, 
Shakespeare,  you  know,  and  men  like  that.  And  he  has  funny 
old  stuffed  birds  sitting  up  between  the  busts.  You  wouldn't 
think  that  would  be  pretty,  would  you,  just  books,  and 
mothy  old  birds,  and  no  curtains  at  the  windows;  it  isn't  a 
bit  stylish,  but  somehow  it  looks  like  Doctor  Vardaman, 
Well,  we  looked  at  the  greatest  pile  of  books  of  plays,  and  I 
told  the  doctor  I  thought  we  oughtn't  to  attempt  anything 


146  THE    TENANTS 

but  farce,  so  that  we'd  be  sure  of  entertaining  people.  But 
he  said  if  we  really  meant  to  be  funny,  we'd  better  be  serious ; 
he'd  guarantee  everybody  would  be  much  more  entertained. 
Doctor  Vardaman  does  say  such  queer  things — you  never 
know  whether  he's  laughing  at  you,  or  with  you.  But  he's 
lovely  about  hearing  us  rehearse  (he's  seen  it  on  the  stage, 
you  know),  and  suggesting  business — that's  when  you  have 
to  stand  in  a  corner  and  make  believe  to  be  doing  something 
when  it  isn't  your  turn  to  talk.  Isn't  it  funny  you  never  see 
actors  standing  still,  and  looking  stumped  for  something  to 
do?  They're  always  walking  around,  or  they've  got  some- 
thing in  their  hands  to  fuss  with,  or " 

"  Well,  that's  business,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  don't  see  why  they  can't  sit  still  just  the  way 
we  are  now — but  if  they  did,  it  probably  wouldn't  look 
right  on  the  stage.  Only  how  do  they  think  up  all  the  things 
they  do?  Business  is  a  lot  harder  than  talking,  anyhow. 
Muriel's  the  leading  lady,  she's  got  an  awfully  long  part. 
J.  B.  has  to  make  love  to  her,  you  know,  and  when  the  butler 
steals  the  diamonds,  and  they  think  Muriel  did  it,  he  goes 
right  away  and  proposes  to  her,  to  show  that  he  trusts  her 
anyway- 


"  I  don't  like  all  that  spoony  part,"  said  Muriel,  colouring 
painfully. 

"  He  don't  either,  I  guess,"  said  Kitty.  "  Men  don't  like 
being  made  to  look  ridiculous." 

Kitty  was  undoubtedly  a  cat,  but "You're  in  the 

play,  too,  aren't  you,  Miss  Oldham?  "  Muriel  asked  her. 

"  Yes.  I'm  Mrs.  Tankerville's  maid.  I've  only  got  about 
two  words  to  say." 

"  Oh ! "   said  Muriel  in  her  pleasant   low  voice.  "  Oh ! " 


THE    TENANTS  147 

That  was  all.  But  she  had  got  even,  to  our  surprise.  I  believe 
we  all  liked  her  the  better  for  it. 

"  We'll  all  have  to  copy  out  our  parts,"  continued  Mazie 
rather  hastily.  "  It's  comedy,  except  where  Mrs.  Tanker- 
ville's  diamonds  are  stolen ;  Teddy  Johns  is  *  Jenks,'  the 
butler;  in  the  last  act  he's  shot,  while  he's  hiding  behind  a 
screen,  and  then  they  find  the  diamonds  on  him,  and  it  all 
'comes  out  right,  of  course.  And  oh,  girls,  it  opens  with  a 
ballroom  scene,  and  we'll  all  have  to  be  dressed  up  to  the 
nines — wouldn't  mamma  be  raging  if  she  heard  me  say  that 
— she  thinks  slang's  simply  awful!  " 

"Was  that  slang?"  asked  honest  Muriel,  opening  her 
eyes.  "  It  doesn't  seem  to  have  any  sense.  But  then  one 
doesn't  notice  it,  because  so  much  of  your  talk  is  like  that, 
in  the  States !  " 

"  Never  mind,  you'll  learn  as  you  go  along,"  said  Kitty 
encouragingly.  "  It  may  take  a  good  while,  but  you're  bound 
to  learn  some  time.  Everyone  gets  used  to  our  slang  in  the 
end,  even  the  very  slowest  ones !  " 

Mazie  again  intervened  to  shunt  the  conversation  on  a 
safer  track;  she  kept  on  with  the  question  of  dress  for  the 
forthcoming  dramatic  performance;  and  as  there  were  a 
good  many  changes  for  everybody,  the  scene  being  laid  in 
the  present  day,  before  long  she  had  us  all  in  smooth  water 
once  more.  Mazie  was  her  mother's  own  daughter,  deft  as  a 
juggler  among  the  uncertain  knives  and  balls  of  social 
favour;  she  was  fully  awake  to  the  difficulties  of  managing 
that  most  unmanageable  of  bodies,  a  set  of  amateur  actors. 
But  during  the  fortnight  or  so  that  "  William  Tell  "  and 
"Mrs.  Tankerville's  Tiara"  were  in  preparation,  she  and 
Mrs.  Pallinder  must  have  been  taxed  to  the  utmost,  adroit 


148  THE    TENANTS 

as  they  were,  to  keep  things  going  smoothly,  or  indeed,  going 
at  all.  Teddy  Johns,  who  was  somewhat  given  to  hyperbole, 
or,  as  he  himself  would  have  said,  to  "  tall  talk,"  once  con- 
fided to  me  that  he  had  a  feeling  we  were  "  all  dancing  on 
top  of  a  volcano — like  the  What-d'ye-call-'ems  over  the 
Thingumbob,  you  know,"  he  said,  gloomily.  "  I've  read  about 
'em  somewhere.  Lucky  if  it  don't  go  off  under  us ! "  It  did 
go  off,  after  a  fashion,  but  not  quite  as  Teddy  had  expected. 
Teddy  Johns  displayed  more  real  talent — to  call  his  small 
gift  by  a  very  large  name — for  the  stage  than  any  of  us. 
He  was  not  a  clever  young  man — he  had  one  lamentable 
failing ;  but  he  could  control  his  sallow,  solemn  face,  and  un- 
gainly body  into  expressions  and  attitudes  that  would  have 
won  laughter  from  stocks  and  stones.  When  Archie  Lewis 
in  his  character  of  "  Tell "  came  tearing  across  the  stage, 
clamouring  wildly  in  the  highest  style  of  high  tragedy,  "  Me 
che-ild,  me  che-ild !  Must  I  spank  me  own  che-ild  ?  "  Teddy 
could  say,  "  Do  Tell !  "  in  an  accent  of  vacuous  astonishment 
that  reduced  one  to  helpless  and  I  suppose  perfectly  senseless 
merriment.  Teddy  was  our  sheet-anchor.  Unquestionably 
without  him  the  whole  thing  would  be  a  "  fizzle." 


CHAPTER    TWELVE 

<A    BOUT  this  time  all  the  papers  were  giving  consider- 
/%         able  attention  in  the  columns  which  they  headed 
/    \       variously:  "  Social  Doings."  "  Among  the  Four 
JL       jL-  Hundred," — a    phrase    just    then    coming    into 
notoriety, — "  The  Society  Calendar,"  etc.,  to  Mrs.  Pallinder's 
house-party.    That    lady    herself,    her    establishment,    her 
clothes,  her  diamonds  had  provided  us  with  gossip,  as  I  have 
endeavoured  to  show,  for  the  past  two  years.  But  if  we  were 
inured  to  Mrs.  Pallinder,  Miss  Muriel  Ponsonby-Baxter  was 
something  new.  Everyone  entertained  for  her ;  it  was  a  mat- 
ter of  pride  with  us  to  give  our  English  girl-visitor  an  un- 
approachably "  good  time,"  to  prove  to  her  how  much  the 
best  country  in  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds  America  was 
for  the  young,  well-born,  well-mannered,  good-looking,  and 
happy — ourselves,  in  short.  Not  one  of  us  had  the  slightest 
acquaintance  with  English  society ;  but  we  were  confident  our 
own  was  immeasurably  better.  Twenty-five  years  ago,  it  must 
be  remembered,  there  was  a  chillier  feeling  between  the  two 
countries ;  and,  of  course,  our  provincialism  accented  it.  The 
eagle  ramped  upon  his  perch;  the  lion  suffered  a  deal  of 
tail-twisting ;  hands  across  the  sea  were  not  quite  so  fervent 
in  their  clasp  then  as  now.  Our  demagogues  flung  about  dark 
hints  concerning  the  machinations   of  the  "  Cobden   Club." 
American    protectionists,    American    free-traders    bellowed 
themselves  purple  in  the  face  from  the  stump  in  defence  of 
their  several  creeds,  and  strangely  enough,  found  in  England 

149 


150  THE    TENANTS 

equally  an  awful  example,  and  a  beacon-light  of  progress ! 
The  last,  for  obvious  reasons,  was  a  very  unpopular  view; 
in  those  Arcadian  days  the  main  diversion  of  a  certain  class 
of  our  politicians  was  the  ferocious  baiting  of  perfidious  Al- 
bion. The  Oriental-war  scares,  the  race-problems,  the  anti- 
trust, and  anti-railroad  agitations  of  to-day  must  cause  these 
amiable  jingoes — a  name,  by  the  way,  which  they  never  heard 
— to  turn  in  their  graves.  Bless  thee,  Bottom,  how  art  thou 
translated !  In  that  year,  the  Pendleton  Civil-Service  Reform 
Bill  was  the  most  important  measure  before  the  two  Houses ; 
and  "  to  the  victors  belong  the  spoils,"  was  the  cry  most  fre- 
quently raised  against  it.  That  admirable  argument,  at  once 
so  condensed  and  so  forcible,  what  respectable  person  would 
dare  to  utter  it  to-day?  Blaine  was  alive;  Tilden  was  alive; 
Ben  Butler  was  governor  of  Massachusetts,  he  of  fragrant 
memory,  house-cleaner  of  New  Orleans,  promulgator  of  Reg- 
ulation 19 — or  was  it  29?  Iram  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his 
rose,  and  Ben  and  all  the  rest  along  with  him ;  and  we  have 
ceased,  at  a  woeful  expense,  to  be  provincial.  We  were  not 
bothering  our  heads  then,  about  tropical  canals  and  the 
Philippines — oh,  all-but-forgotten  Golden  Age! 

We  were  not  always  certain  what  sort  of  impression  we 
were  making  on  Muriel;  and,  however  eager  we  might  have 
been  to  find  out,  there  are  some  questions  any  girl  would  go 
to  the  scaffold  rather  than  ask.  But  I  know  that  on  one 
point  we  were  intolerably  vain ;  perhaps  that  vanity  was  the 
most  honest,  creditable,  endearing  quality  we  possessed;  and 
something  of  the  same  feeling  stirs  me  even  now.  Where, 
where  on  this  globe,  we  asked  ourselves  triumphantly,  would 
Muriel  find  anything  to  match  the  ready  deference,  the  kind, 
half-humorous,  wholly  charming  devotion  of  the  American 


THE    TENANTS  151 

man  to  his  womankind?  Indeed,  it  was  plain  to  see  she  was 
unused  to  this  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  attitude ;  she  was  as  much 
puzzled  as  pleased  by  it.  I  think  we  were  somewhat  disposed 
to  patronise  her ;  and  Kitty  Oldham  declared  openly  she  didn't 
believe  Miss  Baxter  had  ever  had  an  offer  in  her  life.  She 
was  an  exceptionally  handsome  girl;  she  must  have  had  a 
far  wider  social  experience  than  ours ;  but,  for  all  that,  and 
in  spite  of  her  size  and  the  splendid  unconscious  ease  of  her 
bearing,  we  detected  in  her  a  curious  timidity.  It  suited  her. 
Had  she  attempted  to  imitate  the  brisk,  fearless,  autocratic 
American  girl,  she  would  have  been  merely  a  big  hoyden. 
There  was,  after  all,  something  sweet  in  her  naive  tactless- 
ness, her  awkward  conscientious  efforts  at  adapting  herself 
to  ways  she  could  not  understand,  and  perhaps  at  heart,  did 
not  really  like.  To  one  of  us,  at  least,  the  association  was  not 
without  profit.  I  used  to  feel  that  someone  ought  in  con- 
science to  explain  Mrs.  Botlisch  to  Muriel,  to  apologise  for 
that  really  terrible  old  woman ;  the  irritating  thing  was  that 
Muriel  accepted  her  without  comment,  exactly  as  she  accepted 
the  rest  of  us — as  if,  I  thought  with  annoyance,  we  were 
all  freaks  together !  "  Mazie's  grandmother  is  not — well — er 
— she's  not  at  all — you  know  ?  "  I  said,  feeling,  notwithstand- 
ing this  public-spirited  effort,  a  little  embarrassed  under 
Muriel's  direct,  serious  gaze.  "  Mrs.  Botlisch  is — well,  she's 
really  not — er — very  good  style,  nobody  else  here  is  like  her 
— you  must  have  noticed  it.  She's  awfully  common — of 
course,  we  didn't  know  much  about  the  Pallinders  before 
they  came  here — nobody  knows  how  they — they  got  in,  you 


see " 


« 


I  shouldn't  think  you'd  come  to  the  house  so  much  if 
you  feel  that  way,"  said  Muriel.  "  I  wouldn't." 


152  THE    TENANTS 

She  did  not  mean  it  as  a  rebuke ;  she  was  only  saying,  as 
usual,  precisely  what  she  thought.  But  all  at  once,  with  the 
uncompromising  harshness  of  youth,  I  saw  and  denounced 
myself  inwardly  for  a  petty  groundling,  eating  people's 
bread  with  a  covert  sneer,  and  parading  their  shortcomings 
before  a  stranger.  No,  Muriel  would  not  have  done  it. 
Noblesse  oblige! 

The  Pallinders,  to  their  honour  be  it  said,  never  seemed  to 
be  ashamed  of  Mrs.  Botlisch.  They  had  their  notions  of 
noblesse  oblige,  too,  strange  as  that  may  sound.  Reflecting 
upon  it  now,  I  see  certain  a  heroism  in  the  respect  they  paid 
that  dreadful,  screeching,  vile-tongued  old  termagant.  I 
have  known  prosperous,  reputable  families,  who  paid  the 
butcher  and  thought  it  a  sin  to  play  cards,  wherein  the  un- 
ornamental  older  members  were  not  treated  with  one-half  the 
consideration  these  kind-hearted,  conscienceless  outlaws  be- 
stowed on  Mrs.  Botlisch.  She  was  a  fat  harridan  of  seventy 
with  a  blotched  red  face,  a  great,  coarse,  husky  voice  like 
a  man's  and  thick  hands,  the  nails  bitten  down  to  the  quick. 
She  liked  to  go  about  without  corsets  or  shoes  in  a  shapeless 
gaberdine  she  called  a  double-gown — not  too  clean  at  that. 
She  kept  a  bottle  of  whisky  on  her  mantelpiece ;  she  had  a  dis- 
concerting habit  of  whisking  out  her  teeth  and  laying  them 
down  wherever  she  chanced  to  be ;  you  might  come  upon  them 
grinning  amongst  Mazie's  music  on  the  piano,  or  under  the 
sofa-cushions.  She  frankly  enjoyed  a  loose  story,  and  made 
a  point  of  telling  them  in  mixed  companies  of  young  people. 
She  alternately  bullied  the  servants  and  gossiped  with  them 
in  the  kitchen;  once  I  most  inopportunely  happened  upon 
Mrs.  Botlisch  engaged  in  a  battle-royal  with  one  of  the 
chambermaids  over  some  trifle — a  broken  dish,  perhaps — in 


THE    TENANTS  153 

the  pantry.  Fortunately,  I  could  not  understand  one  word 
they  uttered ;  and  after  a  little,  Mrs.  Pallinder  came,  looking 
quite  grey  over  her  handsome  resolute  face,  and  took  her 
mother  away  still  shrieking  hideous  abuse.  "  Ma  is  so 
eccentric,"  she  said  to  me  afterwards,  with  a  ghastly  smile; 
and  some  feeling,  of  mingled  horror  and  compassion,  withheld 
me  from  reporting  the  wretched  scene.  In  most  households, 
these  undesirable  parents  can  be  thrust,  gently  or  not,  into 
the  background;  in  fact,  very  many  parents  retire  thither 
of  their  own  accord.  But  Mrs.  Botlisch  was  not  of  that 
type. 

"  I  like  to  set  in  the  parlour  an'  see  the  young  folks,"  she 
said.  "  Mirandy  she  don't  want  me  to,  but  I  says  to  her, 
'  Mirandy,'  says  I,  '  don't  you  worry.  I'm  goin'  ter  keep 
my  uppers  an'  lowers  in,  'less  I  git  a  fish-bone  er  a  hunk  o' 
meat  under  the  plate  at  dinner,  an'  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  no  bed 
till  I  git  sleepy,'  says  I.  She  says,  '  Ma,  I'm  afraid  you  won't 
be  comf'ble  with  your — you  know — on  all  evenin'.'  "  (Here 
she  gave  J.  B.  a  poke  in  the  side  and  dropped  her  left  eyelid). 
"  6  Lord  love  you,  don't  set  there  lookin'  so  innercent  like 
you'd  never  saw  a  woman  undress  in  yer  life — don't  come  that 
over  me,  young  feller.  She  says,  '  Ma,  I'm  afraid  you'll  feel 
kinder  tight  an'  uncomf'ble  with  'em  on  all  evenin'  'long  as 
you  ain't  used  to  wearin'  'em  much  in  the  daytime,'  she 
says.  'Land!'  says  I.  'Mirandy,  I  ain't  squoze  inter 
my  cloze  by  main  stren'th  the  way  Mazie  is.  'F  I  feel  un- 
comf'ble, I'll  just  undo  the  bottom  buttons  of  my  basque  an' 
I'll  be  all  right,  you  see.'  " 

And  there  she  sat,  true  to  her  word,  creaking  in  her  black 
silk  and  bugles  (with  the  bottom  buttons  undone!),  perspir- 
ing greasily   over  her   fat   red   face;  and   shouting   rough, 


154  THE    TENANTS 

humorous,  and  frequently  shrewd  criticism  at  our  amateurs 
during  rehearsal  until  midnight,  when  we  went  out  to  the 
dining-room  for  oysters,  egg-nogg,  and  the  too  lavish  enter- 
tainment of  Colonel  Pallinder's  sideboard.  The  first  time 
this  occurred  Teddy  Johns  retreated  precipitately  from  the 
table,  and,  being  sought,  was  discovered  at  last,  pallidly  re- 
clining on  the  library  lounge. 

"  I'm  all  right,  old  man,"  he  said  feebly.  "  Just  a  minute, 
please.  I  couldn't  stand  seeing  old  Mrs.  Botlisch  wallop  down 
those  oysters,  that's  all." 

There  lies  before  me  now  a  square  of  rough  paper  (de- 
signedly rough),  with  jagged  edges  (designedly  jagged), 
tinted  in  water  colours  an  elegant  cloudy  blue,  with  a  butter- 
fly, or  some  such  insect,  painted  in  one  corner,  and  a  slit 
diagonally  opposite  through  which  we  stuck  a  single  rose- 
bud, as  I  remember.  Slanting  across  the  sheet  in  loose  gilt 
lettering  I  read  "  Programme,"  and  a  date  beneath.  This 
confection  represented  days  of  effort  and  ingenuity  on  the 
part  of  those  young  ladies  among  my  contemporaries  who 
painted  china,  or  were  otherwise  "  artistic."  Some  of  them 
took  the  "Art  Amateur,"  at  a  ruinous  expenditure;  that 
publication  has  long  since  gone  the  way  of  all  flesh  and  most 
print,  in  company,  it  would  appear,  with  the  amateurs  for 
whom  it  was  destined.  Nobody  is  either  "  artistic  "  or  ama- 
teurish any  more.  We  did  the  jagging  with  a  meat-saw,  I 
believe — what  a  spectacle  for  our  accomplished  posterity! 

If  I  reverse  the  sheet,  I  find  upon  the  other  side,  in  a  correct 
angular  hand  (it  may  well  be  my  own,  for  angularity  was 
much  the  fashion  in  those  days;  and  the  inartistic  ones  let 
what  aid  they  could  to  the  task  of  programme-making),  I 
find,  I  say,  the 


THE    TENANTS  155 

CAST    OF    CHARACTERS 

WILLIAM    TELL, 

An  Opera  in  Two  Acts. 

William    Tell Mr.    Archer    Baldwin    Lewis 

Arnold  von  Winkelreid Mr.  James   Hathaway 

Walter   Furst Mr.   Julian   Todd 

Melcthal Mr.    Appleton    Wingate 

Gessler Mr.    James    Smith 

Rudolph Mr.    John    Porter 

Ruodi Mr.  Joseph  Randall  McHenry 

Leuthold Mr.   Henry  Barnes   Smith 

Matilda Mr.    Gwynne    Peters 

Mrs.   Tell Mr.  Oliver   Hunt 

Mrs.  Gessler Mr.  Theodore  E.  Johns 

Jemmy,  Tell's  son     .     Mr.  Junius  Brutus  Breckinridge  Taylor 
Chorus   of  Peasants,  Knights,  Pages, 
Ladies,   Hunters,   Soldiers,   etc.    .    .    .    Mr.   Robert   Carson 
Scene:       The  Schactenthal  Waterfall. 

The  uninformed  might  very  well  inquire,  as  did  Doctor 
Vardaman,  what  under  Heaven  Arnold  von  Winkelreid  was 
doing  in  this  galere?  He  appeared  among  the  other  historical 
personages  with  a  baseball-catcher's  padded  guard  tied  about 
his  chest,  and  stuck  full  of  enormous  arrows ;  at  one  time  or 
another  every  young  man  in  the  cast,  including  Jimmie 
Hathaway  himself,  was  overheard  laboriously  explaining  to 
Muriel  that  it  was  "  all  just  nonsense,  you  know;  of  course 
Winkelreid  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  Tell — but  there 
was  an  Arnold  in  the  cast  of  the  real  opera — and  then  there 
was  that  funny  old  piece  about  Arnold  von  Winkelreid  in  Mc- 
GufFey's  Reader,  you  know :  '  Make  way  for  liberty,  he 
cried,  make  way  for  liberty,  and  died ! '  and  he  somehow 
seemed  to  fit  in  pretty  well  with  the  rest  of  the  foolishness. 
They  had  thought  of  having  Casabianca,  too,  but  gave  it 
up,"  and  so  on  and  so  on. 

"  Don't  pay  any  attention  to  their  excuses,  Miss  Baxter," 


156  THE    TENANTS 

said  the  doctor  fiercely,  yet  shaking  with  laughter.  "  It's  all 
miserable  horse-play — vandalism — desecration.  c  Guillaume 
Tell '  is  a  beautiful  opera,  the  creation  of  a  great  musical 
genius.  I've  seen  Sonntag  and  Lablache  in  it ;  it  ought  to  be 
sacred  from  these  barbarians — you  hear  me,  boys,  barbar- 
ians ! "  He  menaced  them  with  a  closed  fist ;  and  they  went 
on  shamelessly: 

Oessler  (in  a  loud  voice) — Who  are  these  fellows? 
Rudolph — My  lord,  these  are  Swiss. 

Oessler    {louder,    pointing    to    Tell) — Who's    that    fellow    with    the 
freckles  ? 
Rudolph — My  lord,  that  is  a  dotted  Swiss. 
Oessler  (louder  still) — Take  away  that  dashed  Swiss! 
Rudolph — My  lord,  I  said  dotted. 
Oessler  (very  loud) — Well,  I  said  dashed 

It  took  little  enough  to  make  us  laugh,  for  we  thought 
all  that  very  funny  indeed.  And  an  interesting  point  might 
be  made  of  the  fact  that  "  William  Tell,"  whether  the  men 
had  greater  abilities,  or  easier  parts,  or  from  whatever  rea- 
son, was,  as  a  whole,  far  and  away  superior  to  the  play  in 
which  the  girls  appeared.  Doctor  Vardaman,  for  all  his  old- 
time  gallantry,  betrayed  his  preference  more  than  once ;  but 
it  sometimes  seemed  to  me  as  if  the  old  gentleman  took  a 
malign  satisfaction  in  viewing  our  performances,  theatrical 
and  otherwise,  as  one  who  should  stand  by  and  observe  the 
antics  of  so  many  apes  with  an  amused  detachment. 

"Of  course,  of  course,  I  enjoy  the  comedy.  Don't  you 
want  me  to  enjoy  the  comedy?  "  he  said  when  I  taxed  him, 
and  eyed  me  sidelong  with  his  discomfiting  grin.  The  doctor 
was  a  queer  old  man ;  not  the  least  evidence  of  his  queerness 
was  the  interest  he  displayed  in  our  affairs.  He  watched  us 


THE    TENANTS  157 

drill  for  "  William  Tell  "  and  "  Mrs.  Tankerville's  Tiara," 
day  by  day,  appearing  to  find  therein  unfailing  entertain- 
ment. To  be  sure  he  had  little  else  to  do ;  he  had  long 
retired  from  practice,  and,  as  he  said  of  himself,  was  the  weak- 
minded  victim  of  his  own  whims.  With  all  his  oddities,  we 
were  fond  of  him ;  and  his  advice  and  suggestions  were  a  real 
help  to  such  of  us  as  took  ourselves  and  our  parts  seriously. 
The  stage  was  one  of  his  many  hobbies ;  he  had  collected  a 
huge  library  of  books  relating  to  it ;  had  seen  all  of  the 
celebrated  actors  of  his  day  and  known  not  a  few  of  them; 
and  could  recall  Laura  Keane  in  the  very  role  which  Muriel 
was  now  essaying. 

"  Do  you  remember  what  she  wore,  Doctor?  "  Mazie  asked 
him,  characteristically  enough,  by  the  way. 

"  White  gauze,  I  think,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  consid- 
ering. "  Yes,  it  was  white  gauze,  and  a  touch  of  green  about 
it  somewhere." 

"  Huh !  Touch  o'  green  was  a  fig-leaf,  I  s'pose — hope 
so,  anyhow !  "  said  Mrs.  Botlisch,  and  "  wallopped  "  down 
another  oyster.  She  was  a  terrible  old  woman. 

"  I  don't  know  what  we'd  do  without  you,  doctor,"  said 
Mazie  precipitately.  "  You  know  so  much  about  it — what 
we  ought  to  do,  I  mean,  and  how  the  whole  thing  ought  to 
go.  It's  ever  so  kind  of  you " 

"  Not  at  all — the  kindness  is  on  your  side,"  said  the  doctor. 
He  glanced  about  with  a  smile  in  which  there  lurked  a  whim- 
sical  melancholy.  "  I  don't  aspire  to  the  post  of  guide, 
philosopher,  and  fr " 

"  Talkin'  o'  guides,"  old  Mrs.  Botlisch  interrupted  him. 
"  Ever  hear  that  story  'bout  the  English  feller  that  went 
aroun'  Niagry  Falls  with  a  guide,  out  to  Table  Rock  an'  Goat 


158  THE    TENANTS 

Island,  and  down  under  th'  Falls  an'  everywheres,  an'  when 
they  got  through,  he  took  an'  wrote  in  th'  visitors'  book, 
'  Why  am  I  like  Desdemona?  '  That's  th'  white  girl  that  mar- 
ried a  nigger  in  one  o'  these  here  plays,  you  know.  He  took  an' 
wrote,  '  Why  am  I  like  Desdemona  ?  Becuz '  " 

"  Ahem !  "  interrupted  Doctor  Vardaman,  with  extraordi- 
nary vehemence.  "  You  were  asking  me  for  the  address  of  the 
man  that  sells  make-up  boxes,  one  of  you  the  other  day.  I 
meant  to  bring  it  with  me  to-night,  but  forgot.  Any  time 
you  want,  you  can  stop  at  my  house,  and  in  case  I'm  out,  ask 
Huddesley,  I  left  it  with  him.  It's  Kryzowski — bowski — 
wowski — some  such  unpronounceable  Russian  name,  and  his 
shop  is  somewhere  on  Sixth  Avenue,  I  think,  but  I  can't 
exactly  remember." 

All  of  which  speech  the  doctor  delivered  in  a  rapid  and 
vigorous  outburst  of  words,  not  pausing  until  he  was  quite 
out  of  breath ;  and  even  then  he  had  the  air  of  one  skirting 
by  a  hair's-breadth  some  desperate  verge. 

"  I'll  stop  in  to-morrow,"  said  J.  B.  "  Huddesley  isn't 
likely  to  get  mixed  up  about  it,  is  he?  " 

"  Huddesley  ?  Oh,  no,  trust  him.  Besides  I'll  leave  it  writ- 
ten down.  But  Huddesley  is  perfectly  reliable — a  remarkable 
man,  that — never  had  a  such  a  servant  is  my  house — he's 
really  unusual." 

"  Snake  in  th'  grass — don't  tell  me! "  Mrs.  Botlisch 
grunted.  She  had  taken  a  bitter  prejudice  against  the  doc- 
tor's man-servant;  partly,  no  doubt,  because  although  he 
was  a  good  deal  about  the  house,  coming  and  going  on  the 
doctor's  errands,  he  had  managed  to  avoid  both  her  bullying 
and  her  patronage.  There  is  nothing  more  offensive  than 
the  servant  whose  manners   are  better  than   our  own.  And 


THE    TENANTS  159 

Huddesley's  manners  were  perfect  in  his  degree ;  he  was 
English,  we  supposed  from  the  short  fragment  of  his  history 
we  had  heard,  and  had  not  been  long  enough  abroad  to  lose 
the  insular  standard  of  domestic  service,  and  the  insular 
traditions  of  class. 

"  Huddesley'll  get  spoiled  if  you  don't  look  out,  Doctor," 
Colonel  Pallinder  warned  him.  "  None  of  my  affair,  of  course, 
but,  pardon  me,  too  much  notice  and  perhaps  too  much 
pay " 

"  I  know  some  of  'em  that  ain't  sufferin'  from  that  any- 
how !  "  growled  the  old  woman  pointedly. 

"  I  believe  ma  thinks  we  ought  to  give  all  these  lazy  darkies 
as  much  as  we  spend  on  ourselves,"  said  Mrs.  Pallinder  with 
an  indulgent  laugh.  "  As  if  they  weren't  eating  us  out  of 
house  and  home  already !  But  William's  right,  doctor,  Hud- 
desley  will  be  spoiled  if  we're  not  all  more  careful.  A  white 
servant  can't  stand  petting  and  familiarity  the  way  black 
ones  do ;  sooner  or  later  he'll  presume  on  it.  Did  you  know 
that  all  these  boys  have  been  going  down  to  your  house  to 
get  Huddesley  to  hear  them  their  parts  ?  " 

"  It's  my  fault,  I  began  it,"  J.  B.  explained,  reddening. 
"  I  said  to  Ted  that  if  he  wanted  to  know  how  an  English 
butler  behaved  he'd  better  get  a  few  pointers  from  Huddes- 
ley. Huddesley'd  make  an  ideal  J  Jenks,'  you  know,  as  far  as 
looks  go,  I  mean.  He's  the  real  thing  in  butlers.  And  it's 
funny,  he's  got  ever  so  many  good  ideas  about  business,  you 
know,  and  all  that.  But  we  won't  do  it  any  more  of  you'd 
rather  not,  Doctor." 

M  Pooh,  you  can't  spoil  a  man  like  that,"  the  doctor  said. 
"  Reverence  for  class  is  born  in  'em ;  it  runs  in  the  blood. 
That's  what  I  admire  about  these  English  servants — their 


160  THE    TENANTS 

perfect  self-respect,  and  idea  of  the  dignity  of  their  own 
position,  without  presuming  on  yours." 

"  It's  awfully  convenient  having  him  to  prompt  anyhow," 
said  Mazie,  who  needed  a  great  deal  of  prompting.  "  Nobody 
wants  to  sit  and  hold  an  old  prompt-book  and  watch  for  mis- 
takes. What  bothers  me  is  all  those  funny  little  pairs  of  let- 
ters '  r.u.9  and  '  cross  over '  and  '  sits  right  *  scattered  all 
through  your  speech  like  hiccups.  I  don't  know  what  r.u. 
means,  anyhow." 

"  Huddesley  says  it  means  retire  up — walk  toward  the  back 
of  the  stage,  you  know." 

"  Well,  but  I  thought  you  oughtn't  ever  to  turn  your  back 
on  the  audience." 

"  Depends  on  yer  figger,  I  guess,"  said  Mrs.  Botliscru 
"  Some  girl's  backs  and  fronts  ain't  no  different — they're 
flat  both  sides  like  a  paper  doll ! " 

"  Huddesley  has  aspirations,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman 
briskly.  "  I  discovered  that  some  time  ago.  At  first  I  thought 
he  wanted  to  study  medicine;  he  used  to  be  forever  poking 
about  my  little  room,  pretending  to  dust  and  arrange  the 
bottles,  and  asking  all  manner  of  questions.  But  since  this 
business  of  your  plays  has  come  up,  he's  been  tremendously 
interested  in  them.  The  fellow  has  some  education,  you  know. 
I've  found  him  two  or  three  times  reading  in  my  library,  with 
the  feather  duster  under  his  arm — perfectly  absorbed.  He 
was  very  mortified  the  first  time  I  caught  him  at  it,  and 
humbly  begged  my  pardon.  '  Hi  can't  resist  a  book,  sir, 
sometimes,'  he  said.  'Hi  wouldn't  wish  to  be  thought  to 
presoom,  but  Hi've  tastes  hother  than  my  lot  can  gratify; 
and  Hi've  'ad  'opes— but,'  says  he,  with  a  sigh,  '  that's  hall 
hover  and  gone,  now.'  " 


THE    TENANTS  161 

"  Kind  of  stagey,  wasn't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course,  he  must  have  got  that  out  of  some  book. 
Once  in  a  while,  he  uses  very  fine  language,  indeed,  and  then  I 
know  he's  been  reading.  I  said,  *  Well,  Huddesley,  it's  a  pity, 
if  feeling  that  way,  you  can't  raise  yourself  as  high  as  you 
choose  here  in  America.'  I  only  said  it  to  draw  him  out,  you 
know.  He  shook  his  head  mournfully.  '  No,  sir,'  says  he,  '  Hi 
won't  never  be  anything  but  a  butler — a  servant  pourin'  out 
wine  an'  blackin'  boots  for  the  rich  and  light-'earted  like 
yourself,  sir.'  I  asked  him  what  he  would  like  to  be  if  he  could 
begin  over  again.  "  A  hactor,  sir,'  said  he  respectfully.  '  Hi 
feel  the  stirrin'  of  Hart  within  my  buzzom.'  4  That's  where 
we  commonly  feel  'em,  Huddesley,'  says  I.  8  Hi  don't  mean 
'eart,  sir,  beggin'  your  parding,  Hi  mean  Hart — with  a 
Hay,  sir — that's  what  Hi  feel,  but  they'll  never  'ave  no  hout- 

let,  sir,  Hi'm  a  butler — the  die  is  cast '  and  then  I  escaped 

into  the  garden  to  laugh." 

"  That  isn't  all  funny — it's  pathetic  too,"  said  J.  B. 
thoughtfully.  "  Poor  devil ! " 

At  least  two  people  in  the  room  looked  at  the  young  man 
with  a  quicker  interest — Doctor  Vardaman  and  Muriel,  the 
doctor  with  an  odd  and  pleased  surprise  in  his  keen  quizzical 
face.  As  for  Muriel,  she  and  J.  B.  looked  at  one  another 
pretty  often,  as  I  remember.  Mrs.  Botlisch  raised  her  hard 
old  features  from  a  close  inspection  of  her  empty,  swept  and 
scraped  platter,  and  fixed  the  doctor  with  a  little  twinkling 
porcine  eye. 

"  How  long  you  had  him  anyway,  Doc.  ?  " 

"  Three  months,  or  so,  I  believe." 

Oh,  no,  it's  not  that  long,  Doctor,"   exclaimed  Mazie. 
I  remember  Huddesley  came  after  the  holidays,  just  as  I 


162  THE    TENANTS 

was  starting  to  Washington.  That  was  a  little  after  the 
Charity  Ball.  I  put  off  going  so  as  not  to  miss  it.  I  remem- 
ber about  Huddesley  because  you  had  just  got  rid  of  that 
awful  man  that  had  d.t's  and  came  up  here  with  an  axe  want- 
ing to  kill  somebody." 

"  Huddesley's  arrival  raised  the  tone  of  our  neighbourhood 
appreciably,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  laugh.  Doctor  Varda- 
man's  men  were  a  byword  in  the  community.  Men  of  every 
colour  and  nationality  had  drifted  through  his  hands ;  it  was 
a  long  procession  of  lazy,  drunken,  thieving  rascality,  or 
honesty  so  abysmally  stupid  and  incompetent  as  to  be  equally 
worthless.  "  I'll  never  let  him  go,  now  I've  got  him,"  said  the 
old  gentleman.  "  I  have  a  fellow-feeling  for  all  you  ladies 
that  keep  house.  Rather  than  lose  him,  I'd  give  him  every- 
thing I  own  even  unto  the  half  of  my  substance." 

"  He'll  git  more  'n  that  'fore  he's  through  with  ye,"  said 
Mrs.  Botlisch.  "You  young  Taylor  feller," — she  always 
called  J.  B.  and  in  fact  all  the  young  men  that  frequented  the 
house,  by  the  last  name — "you'd  better  git  that  bottle  o' 
rye  away  from  Johns.  He's  had  about  enough,  'f  Vm  any 
jedge — an'  I  reckon  I'd  oughter  be,  all  th'  drunks  I've 
handled " 

"Pioneer  times,  pioneer  times,"  said  the  colonel,  hastily. 
"  Er — um — the  ice  to  Mr.  Johns,  Sam." 

"When  Mirandy's  pa  useter  came  home  loaded,"  pursued 
the  old  woman,  unmoved,  "  many's  the  time  I've  shet  him  in 
th'  woodshed,  him  hollerin'  bloody  murder — i  Let  him  holler ! ' 
says  I.  Time  mornin'  come  I'd  git  him  under  th'  pump — oh 
my,  yes,  I've  had  lots  of  experience." 

"  Pioneer  times,"  said  Colonel  Pallinder  again  desperately. 
(But  J.  B.  did  take  the  bottle  away  from  Teddy's  neighbour- 


THE    TENANTS  163 

hood.)  "Pioneer  days!  Good  God,  gentlemen,  when  I  think 
of  what  men  and  women  had  to  contend  with  then,  I'm 
ashamed,  yes,  ashamed  of  the  luxuries  we  live  in.  You  were 
saying,  Doctor " 

"  About — ahem — oh — ah — yes,  about  Huddesley,"  said  the 
doctor,  who  had  not  been  saying  anything.  "  I  can't  always 
make  the  fellow  out — I'm  rather  puzzled " 

"  Speakin'  o'  puzzles,"  said  old  Mrs.  Botlisch,  "  I  was 
goin'  to  tell  ye  that  one  'bout  th'  English  feller  that  the 
guide  was  takin'  'roun'  Niagry  Falls.  After  they  had  gone 
down  under  th'  Falls,  an'  out  to  Goat  Island,  and  every- 
wheres  else,  ye  know,  he  took  an'  wrote  in  th'  visitors'  book, 
'  Why  am  I  like  Desdemona?'  (That's  the  white  girl  that 
goes  off  with  a  nigger  in  th'  play,  ye  know).  He  wrote  just 
that :  '  Why  am  I  like  Desdemona  ?  '  Th'  answer  is :  6  Be- 
cuz '  " 

This  time,  in  spite  of  an  outburst  of  coughing  that 
threatened  serious  results  to  Doctor  Vardaman,  in  spite  of 
a  fusillade  of  loud  irrelevant  talk  from  the  colonel,  in  spite 
even  of  Teddy  Johns'  quite  unintentionally  falling  over  a 
chair,  this  time,  I  say,  we  all  heard  the  answer ! 


CHAPTER    THIRTEEN 

NrOT  long  since  I  had  a  visit  from  Gwynne  Peters' 
oldest  boy.  The  little  fellow  is  twelve,  and,  as  I 
abstained  from  any  embarrassing  and  inconven- 
ient demonstrations  of  affection  or  even  friend- 
ship, we  became  quite  intimate,  and  I  believe  he  enjoyed 
himself  after  a  fashion.  He  is  not  like  his  father,  neither  so 
delicate  in  body,  nor  so  gentle  and  winning  as  I  remember  the 
elder  Gwynne — but,  in  truth,  I  do  not  know  if  I  ever  found 
the  way  to  his  heart,  with  all  my  diplomacy ;  the  unconquer- 
able barrier  of  age  divided  us ;  childhood  looks  with  so  solidly- 
rooted  a  suspicion  on  our  efforts  to  approach  it ;  it  guards  its 
quaint  jungles,  its  enchanted  gardens  with  so  jealous  a  care 
that  we  may  well  despair  of  ever  touching  hands.  And  for 
that  matter  I  sometimes  think  we  are  all  strangers  more  or 
less  to  the  end,  and  our  nearest  intimacy  only  a  painful  inter- 
change of  signals  in  a  fog.  Little  Gwynne  tolerated  me,  and 
I  soon  ceased  to  ask  anything  else.  He  approved  of  cookies 
and  the  works  of  Mr.  Alger ;  as  these  latter  immortal  produc- 
tions do  not  form  a  part  of  my  library,  we  were  obliged  to 
call  upon  the  Carnegie  one  a  few  squares  distant,  whence  he 
requisitioned  them  at  the  rate  of  a  new  Alger  volume  about 
every  twenty-four  hours  until  the  supply  was  exhausted,  when 
we  began  on  Mr.  Henty.  This  fell  out  very  luckily,  as  I  had 
discovered  him  asleep  in  a  corner  over  "  Ivanhoe,"  and  I 
should  not  have  wished  him  to  carry  away  so  unfavourable  an 
impression   of  my   resources   in   the  way   of  entertainment. 

164 


THE    TENANTS  165 

But  what  I  most  observed  in  him  was  an  indifference  to,  or 
ignorance  of,  his  family  history  and  traditions  that  seemed 
abnormal  in  a  Gwynne,  however  remotely  descended.  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  ever  been  to  see  his  great-grandfather's  portrait 
in  the  State-House?  The  moment  was  ill-chosen,  as  he  was 
profoundly  occupied  with  a  new  variety  of  top,  but  he 
absently  answered :  "  Yep." 

"  What  did  you  think  of  it?  " 

"  Nothin',"  said  this  renegade,  with  astounding  callous- 
ness, bending  himself  to  the  top ;  it  was  warranted  to  spin 
five  minutes  at  a  stretch,  and  when  he  had  got  it  started,  and 
was  timing  it  by  my  watch,  he  felt  his  mind  released  from 
cares  enough  to  volunteer  indulgently :  "  Father's  got  a  big 
photograph  of  it  in  his  office.  It's  all  yellow  and  fly-specky, 
because  it's  so  old,  you  know.  I  guess  it's  'most  as  old  as 
father — or  maybe  you" 

"  Doesn't  your  father  ever  tell  you  about  him — what  a 
great  man  he  was,  and  all?  " 

"  Nope." 

"  What !  "  said  I,  then,  unable  to  believe  my  ears.  "  Doesn't 
he  ever  talk  to  you  about  Governor  Gwynne?  Doesn't  any- 
body ever  tell  you  to  remember  that  you're  a  Gwynne?  "  The 
top  was  reeling  to  its  fall,  and  he  was  very  busy,  and,  as  I 
could  see,  justifiably  annoyed  at  my  persistence,  but  this 
question  caused  him  to  look  up  sharply  with  the  quick  sus- 
picion of  his  twelve  years. 

"  Aw,  you're  in  fun  !  "  he  said,  eying  me  shrewdly.  "  Father 
wouldn't  talk  guff  like  that!  And  anyway  my  name's  Peters 
— G Wynne's  just  my  given  name — so  it  wouldn't  be  true, 
see?"  Guff  like  that!  These  were  his  sacrilegious  words. 
Nothing  could  have  more  stingingly  brought  home  to  me  the 


166  THE    TENANTS 

lapse  of  years,  or  better  illustrated  the  changes  in  men's 
minds.  And  I  might  here  insert  some  valuable  reflections  on 
the  vanity  of  human  achievement,  and  the  hollow  and  transi- 
tory character  of  fame,  if  I  were  not  uneasily  conscious  that 
Governor  Gwynne's  renown,  even  in  his  heyday,  was  not  of 
a  kind  to  fill  the  four  corners  of  the  universe ;  it  was  only  in 
the  opinion  of  his  family  that  it  reached  those  magnificent 
proportions.  Now  he  and  his  deeds  are  forgotten,  even  by 
them ;  the  fires  are  all  dead  on  that  fantastic  altar  which  the 
Gwynnes  tended  for  so  many  years  with  so  much  misplaced 
zeal.  It  is  not  likely,  I  think,  that  little  Gwynne  will  ever 
be  troubled  by  the  problems  confronting  his  father  in  March 
of  the  year  of  Grace,  1883. 

In  fact,  during  this  time,  Gwynne  might  have  been  seen 
any  day  pondering  gloomily  before  his  empty  desk,  under  his 
grandfather's  grimly  searching  scrutiny,  by  the  hour.  The 
Pallinder  business  had  reached  a  stage  when  he  could  no 
longer  ignore  it ;  yet  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  any  active 
measures.  Gwynne  knew  as  much  as  anybody  about  the  col- 
onel's affairs;  he  had  heard  certain  subdued  but  very  dis- 
agreeable rumours.  Templeton  himself  had  brought  them  to 
him  months  earlier  with  a  countenance  of  fright  and  per- 
plexity. It  had  not  cleared  much  when  he  left  the  office ;  the 
little  agent  could  not  understand  what  ailed  his  patron.  He 
had  never  known  Gwynne  to  be  so  indifferent,  so  careless  of 
the  rights  and  feelings  of  the  other  heirs ;  it  was  clean  out  of 
his  character,  and  Templeton  felt  with  dismay  that  his  surest 
prop  had  been  removed.  If  Mr.  Peters  was  becoming  as  queer 
as  the  rest  of  them,  Templeton  was  almost  ready  to  resign 
from  the  management  of  the  Gwynne  estate;  single-handed, 
he  could  not  "  hold  up  his  end,"  as  he  phrased  it.  In  the  years 


THE    TENANTS  167 

of  their  association  he  had  conceived  something  like  a  real 
affection  for  the  young  man,  and  this  change  obscurely 
alarmed  and  distressed  him.  Gwynne,  about  everything  else 
so  open,  so  resourceful,  so  patient  in  the  control  of  his  diffi- 
cult kindred,  so  genially  shrewd,  would  not  allow  any  discus- 
sion of  the  Pallinder  delinquency;  he  shifted  the  subject,  or 
turned  upon  Templeton  with  a  manner  of  such  forbidding 
reticence  that  the  agent  shrank  discomfited.  "  Oh,  well,  Mr. 
Peters,  I — I  guess  I'd  better  leave  you  alone  to  run  your 
tenants  and  the  family,"  he  would  say  humbly,  reaching  for 
his  hat  in  an  apologetic  confusion.  "  I — I  ain't  ever  made 
such  a  success  of  it  that  I've  any  call  to  argue,  or  advise 
you  how  to  do,"  and  so  would  shuffle  meekly  from  the  room, 
leaving  the  young  man,-  had  he  known  it,  in  a  miserable 
humiliation.  Time  and  again,  Gwynne  had  made  the  resolve 
to  have  it  out  with  the  colonel ;  and  time  and  again  had  turned 
aside  from  the  act,  like  a  hunter  refusing  the  leap.  He  bar- 
gained with  himself,  loathing  his  own  weakness ;  he  would  go 
and  see  Colonel  Pallinder  on  such  a  day  at  such  an  hour;  he 
would  say  to  him  thus  and  so.  The  day  came  and  the  hour 
— why  was  it  that  something  invariably  prevented  him?  Once 
he  even  got  so  far  as  the  door  of  Colonel  Pallinder's  office — - 
and  it  was  locked.  The  office  was  closed  for  the  day:  it  was 
late  Saturday  afternoon,  and  in  his  heart  Gwynne  knew  the 
office  would  be  closed — knew  it  before  he  left  his  own.  He 
turned  away  in  a  flash  of  angry  contempt  of  himself — of  Pall- 
inder— of  the  whole  shabby  business.  Yet  the  colonel  was 
safe  for  that  day ;  you  cannot  scour  the  town  for  a  man,  like 
a  bailiff;  and  Gwynne  certainly  was  not  going  to  follow  him 
to  the  house,  and  dun  him  under  the  very  roof  where  he 
himself  had  received  so  many  hospitalities,   such  unfailing 


168  THE    TENANTS 

courtesy  and  kindness,  within  hearing  of  the  fellow's  innocent 
wife  and  daughter !  What  had  Mrs. — ahem ! — what  had  those 
two  poor  women  done?  Very  likely  they  knew  nothing  what- 
ever about  Pallinder's  indebtedness ;  they  were  both  of  them 
touchingly  ignorant  of  money  matters.  This  was  strictly  an 
affair  for  men — he  would  see  Pallinder  Monday.  And  so 
Gwynne  strode  away  home,  to  dinner  and  a  change  of  dress, 
and  thence,  by  the  most  natural  sequence  in  the  world,  to  the 
Lexington  and  Amherst  cars,  and  out  to  the  Pallinders' !  In 
one  of  his  spasms  of  conscience  he  had  refused  their  urgent 
invitation  to  the  house  party — the  irony  of  his  position  was 
apparent,  even  to  him;  but  he  balanced  the  scales  by  going 
out  night  after  night  to  the  rehearsals  of  "  William  Tell," 
wherein  he  bore  his  part  with  a  feverish  enthusiasm  that  sur- 
prised his  friends. 

It  might  have  been  noticed,  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  am 
sure  hardly  anybody  did  notice,  that  Gwynne  was  the  only 
one  of  the  family  who  figured  in  the  theatricals,  or,  in  the 
pungent  everyday  phrase,  had  anything  to  do  with  the  Pall- 
inders. Marian  Lawrence  had  been  asked  to  the  house  party, 
and  had  eagerly  promised  to  come,  but  in  a  day  or  so  Mrs. 
Pallinder  received  a  charming,  apologetic,  and  graceful  little 
note  from  Mrs.  Lawrence,  declining  on  Marian's  behalf,  for 
some  vague  reason.  The  truth  is,  Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne,  on 
hearing  of  the  plan,  had  once  again  ordered  out  her  barouche 
and  driven  over  to  the  Lawrences',  upright  and  stern,  with 
the  stark  face  of  Doom.  And  after  a  heated  conference  with 
the  mother,  the  note  had  been  despatched ;  Mrs.  Lawrence  sat 
down  and  cried  heartily  with  the  disappointed  girl  when  that 
dire  act  had  been  performed — but  neither  of  them  thought  of 
disobeying   Cousin   Jennie.  When   they   met  Mrs.  Pallinder 


THE    TENANTS  169 

face  to  face  coming  out  of  church  next  Sunday  morning  they 
were  both  a  good  deal  flustered;  they  flinched  before  Mrs. 
Pallinder's  steadily  radiant  smile,  and  were  devoutly  glad, 
I  think,  to  escape  from  her  neighbourhood  into  the  crowd. 
Archie  Lewis  walked  home  with  Marian,  and  raised  his  hat 
as  a  carriage  spun  by — "  That  was  the  Pallinders  with  Miss 
Baxter,"  said  Archie,  observing  with  a  passing  surprise  that 
his  companion  made  no  sign  of  recognition.  "Was  it?  I 
didn't  see  them,"  said  Marian  stoutly,  looking  straight  in 
front  of  her  with  very  red  cheeks.  Not  so  long  before,  Mazie 
had  been  one  of  her  most  intimate  friends.  Look  on  that  pic- 
ture, and  now  on  this !  What  was  the  matter  with  all  the 
Gwynnes?  Little  old  Eleanor  and  little  old  Mollie,  on  seeing 
the  colonel  less  than  half  a  square  off,  advancing  upon  them, 
already  uncovered,  courtly,  bland,  with  outstretched  hand — 
the  two  old  sisters,  I  say,  fairly  took  to  their  heels  up  a  side 
street,  with  scared  and  shrinking  faces.  They  gathered  up 
their  virgin  skirts  and  fled  shudderingly  as  from  contamina- 
tion. Mrs.  Horace  Gwynne,  alone  of  them  all,  possessed  the 
courage  of  her  convictions.  Erect  in  her  barouche,  she  en- 
countered and  returned  Mrs.  Pallinder's  smile  with  a  salute 
so  casual,  so  perfunctory  that  it  suggested  the  recognition  she 
would  have  bestowed  upon  her  cook  in  event  of  a  public  meet- 
ing with  that  functionary.  Mrs.  Pallinder  bit  her  lips  ;  she  red- 
dened through  her  rouge — and  the  next  moment  was  gaily 
bowing  to  another  acquaintance  as  if  life  meant  nothing  to 
her  but  this  pleasant  exchange  of  civilities.  "  Of  course  I 
never  would  deliberately  cut  anybody,"  Mrs.  Horace  ex- 
plained later ;  "  that  sort  of  behaviour  is  childish  and  ill- 
tempered.  But  I  flatter  myself  I  know  as  well  as  anyone  how 
to  put  people  in  their  proper  place,  and  intimate  my  opinion 


170  THE    TENANTS 

of  them,  without  talking  or  acting  like  a  washerwoman.  I 
wanted  Mrs.  Pallinder  to  understand  that  while  I  was  abso- 
lutely indifferent  to  such  a  matter  as  the  back-rent  she  owed 
me  and  every  one  of  us,  I  did  not  approve  of  the  principle 
of  the  thing.  She  knew  perfectly  well  what  I  meant.  And 
at  receptions  or  wherever  she  happened  to  be  in  the  same  com- 
pany with  me  afterwards,  I  simply  didn't  see  her  at  all!  I 
was  always  talking  to  someone  else,  or  had  my  back  turned. 
She  understood — a  person  like  that !  "  I  dare  say  Mrs.  Pall- 
inder did  understand ;  she  was  not  without  some  previous  ex- 
perience, and  it  is  likely  deserved  every  snub  and  stab  which 
Mrs.  Horace,  with  the  just  severity  of  a  good  and  upright 
woman,  inflicted  on  her.  So  must  we  all  lie  upon  the  beds  we 

make. 

This  was  the  secret  of  the  Gwynnes'  altered  demeanour ;  it 
was,  of  course,  not  the  failure  to  pay  them  their  rent  to 
which  they  objected,  but  the  appalling  principle,  or  lack  of 
principle,  it  indicated.  At  least,  that  is  what  they  all  and 
severally  declared  afterwards.  At  the  time,  with  character- 
istic Gwynne  reticence,  they  kept  their  troubles  to  themselves  j 
no  set  of  conspiring  revolutionists  could  have  been  more 
close-mouthed.  Their  behaviour  in  this  instance  was  of  a  piece 
with  the  futile  pride  that  prompted  their  efforts  to  distract 
the  public  mind  from  Caroline — from  Steven — from  Sam 
Peters.  What !  Drag  their  noble  name  through  the  mud  and 
riot  of  a  Common  Pleas  suit?  Associate  their  house  and  the 
memory  of  Governor  Gwynne  with  a  debasing  scandal  about 
Money !  I  should  not  care  to  reveal  the  arts  by  which  Gwynne 
put  off  the  hour  of  retribution  for  the  Pallinders,  playing 
upon  these  familiar  strings  with  a  skill  he  himself  despised. 
Even  he,  in  the  end,  sounded  the  note  once  too  often,  as  we 


THE    TENANTS  171 

have  seen  in  the  case  of  old  Steven,  to  whom  the  sum,  small  as 
it  was,  meant  more  than  to  the  other  members  of  the  family. 
For  Steven,  once  away  from  the  blandishments  of  Mrs.  Pall- 
inder,  naturally  reverted  in  the  shortest  possible  space  of 
time  to  his  previous  mood  of  brooding  indignation.  He  had 
parted  from  Doctor  Vardaman  with  a  confused  notion  that 
everything  was  going  smoothly — that  Gwynne  would  settle 
with  the  Pallinders  in  a  few  days — a  week,  perhaps,  at  fur- 
thest. It  had  not  been  stated  in  so  many  words ;  none  the  less 
Steven  carried  away  these  ideas  planted  within  him  either 
by  Mrs.  Pallinder's  soothing  flatteries,  or  by  the  doctor's 
well-meant  efforts  at  comforting  and  diverting  him.  He 
waited  a  day  or  two,  eagerly  inspecting  every  mail ;  he  spoke 
grandly  of  his  expected  remittances  to  his  tolerant  country 
neighbours,  and  alluded  to  Gwynne  with  a  large  air  as  his 
man  of  business.  But  as  the  days  passed  and  his  man  of  busi- 
ness made  no  sign,  Steven's  slender  allowance  of  patience 
gave  out  once  more.  He  wrote  to  Gwynne,  and  waited  a 
fevered  while  for  an  anwer.  Wrote  again,  and  with  the  letter, 
addressed  and  stamped,  in  his  pocket,  abandoned  his  design, 
and  took  the  first  train  for  town.  It  was  with  a  fierce  and 
resolute  face  that  he  stalked  into  the  office  that  afternoon — 
and  Gwynne  had  gone  out!  This  delay,  to  speak  in  high 
metaphorical  terms  which  would  have  delighted  Steven's  own 
taste,  did  not  arrest  the  falling  of  the  levin-brand;  it  only 
increased  its  momentum.  In  proportion  as  the  moments 
lapsed,  his  wrath  gathered  head.  As  it  happened,  he  found 
himself  in  appropriate  company,  with  his  grievance;  when 
he  entered  the  room  there  sat  his  cousins,  the  two  Misses 
Gwynne,  with  their  pale,  furtive,  startled  faces  framed  in 
curls  and  satin  rosettes,  in  their  rigid  bombazine  skirts,  Miss 


172  THE    TENANTS 

Gwynne  tremblingly  clasping  an  umbrella,  Miss  Mollie  finger- 
ing a  foolscap  document  whereon,  if  Steven  had  cared  to  look, 
he  might  have  seen  some  arithmetical  calculations  similar 
to  his  own.  They  started  up,  fluttering  and  ejaculating  at 
his  appearance ;  then  sank  down  disappointed,  yet,  probably, 
a  little  relieved.  The  two  not  only  dressed,  but  thought  and 
acted  in  couples;  either  one  was  helpless  without  the  other; 
and  both  now  wore  an  air  of  terrified  resolution  such  as  a 
pair  of  mice,  a  pair  of  pullets  might  have  presented  in  some 
desperate  crisis  of  the  trap  or  butcher's  knife.  Even  in  their 
day,  a  day  which  recognised  but  one  career  for  respectable 
women,  which  knew  not  women's  colleges  or  bachelor-maids, 
or  what  we  call  the  professional  equality  of  the  sexes,  Eleanor 
and  Mollie  were  caricatures  of  spinsterhood ;  we  looked  upon 
them  with  as  much  pity  as  amusement,  I  believe.  This  was 
a  tremendous  step  for  them  to  take ;  and  horror  laid  a  throt- 
tling hold  on  both  at  the  idea  (occurring  to  them  simul- 
taneously) that  Cousin  Steven  might  think  them  indiscreet 
or  unladylike.  But  Steven  was  much  too  preoccupied  to  spare 
a  thought  to  their  confusion.  "  Huh,  girls !  "  said  he,  sat 
down  in  Gwynne's  revolving-chair,  and  glowered  absently  out 
of  the  window,  beating  a  tattoo  on  the  desk,  and  framing 
the  sentences  in  which  he  would  open  his  arraignment. 
"Waiting  to  see  Gwynne?"  he  inquired,  rousing  himself 
with  a  momentary  curiosity  after  a  while. 

The  twins  murmured  inarticulately,  looking  at  each  other. 

"  So'm  I,"  said  Steven,  scowling,  and  they  might  all  three 
have  proceeded  to  some  explanations,  but  at  that  moment, 
upon  this  amiable  family-group,  strolled  in  Archie  Lewis,  on 
some  errand  from  his  father's  office,  debonair,  whistling  his 
song  from  "  William  Tell,"  and  very  much  taken  aback  at 


THE    TENANTS  173 

sight  of  the  company  into  which  he  had  stumbled.  "  It  was 
a  perfect  nest  of  Gwynnes,"  he  said,  graphically  describing 
the  episode.  "  I  felt  like  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den." 

"  Oh — ah — Mr.  Gwynne — er — Miss  Gwynne "  said  he, 

stopping  short  in  embarrassment.  "  Ah — urn — Gwynne's 
gone  out,  I  see." 

"  He'll  be  back  in  a  few  minutes,"  stammered  Miss  Eleanor, 
after  a  moment  of  fearful  indecision. 

"  The  office-boy  said  so,"  added  Miss  Mollie  faintly.  "  It's 
almost  half-an-hour  now." 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  won't  wait — if  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to  tell 
him  I  was  here?  And  I'll  just  put  this  on  his  desk  under  the 
paperweight — he'll  understand  when  he  sees  it,"  said  Archie, 
depositing  his  bundle  of  papers  on  the  desk  as  he  spoke,  and 
very  ready  to  beat  a  retreat.  But  Steven,  eying  him,  sud- 
denly growled  out,  "You're  Judge  Lewis'  son,  ain't  you?" 

"  Why,  yes — you  know  my  father,  of  course — I've  often 
heard  him  speak  of  you,"  said  Archie,  conventionally,  edg- 
ing off. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Steven,  imperiously  motioning, 
"  Gwynne'll  be  along  in  a  little.  You  ought  to  be  a  lawyer, 
young  man — your  father's  a  lawyer.  I  haven't  seen  him  for 
years — I  guess  he's  a  good  deal  changed.  Law  kind  of 
changes  people;  it's  seldom  a  man  takes  it  up  and  stays 
honest.  Sit  down ;  Gwynne'll  be  here  presently." 

("  And  so,"  said  Archie,  "  I  sat  down.  The  fact  is,  the  old 
fellow  looked  sort  of  queer,  and  though  I  never  heard  of  his 
doing  anything,  I  didn't  much  like  to  leave  him  alone  with 
those  two  old  ladies — you  never  can  tell,  you  know.") 

"  I'd  like  to  see  the  judge,"  said  Steven. 

"  Why,  I'm  sure  father'd  be  very  pleased " 


174  THE    TENANTS 

Steven  waved  an  impatient  gesture.  "  I'm  not  particular 
about  seeing  him,"  said  he — and  Archie  used  to  repeat  this 
part  of  the  story  in  his  father's  presence  with  infinite  relish 
— "  But  I'd  like  to  have  his  opinion,  in  a  matter  of — a  matter 

of  debt!  " 

The  two  sisters  exchanged  a  horrified  glance;  they  knew 
what  Steven's  errand  was,  now,  and  thought  he  was  about 
to  reveal  the  awful  secret,  and  tarnish  the  name  of  Gwynne 
forever.  But  that  was  by  no  means  Steven's  intention ;  he  was 
as  tender  of  the  family  honour  as  they,  but  much  more  con- 
fident of  his  own  knowledge  of  the  world  and  diplomatic 
abilities.  Archie,  upon  whose  youthfully  sharp  wits  none  of 
this  by-play  was  lost,  sat  wondering  what  was  to  come  next. 

"  This  debt — or — er — this  indebtedness,"  said  Steven  elab- 
orately, "  is — er — it  should  be,  in  short,  collected — that  is 
— er — measures  should  be  taken  by  which  it — could  be,  in 
short,  collected."  He  fixed  a  profound  look  on  the  young  man, 
pausing  while  he  considered  in  what  other  roundabout  terms 
he  could  present  the  situation. 

"  Is  the  fellow  that  owes  you  responsible — solid,  I  mean, 
you  know?"  asked  Archie,  beginning  to  be  interested.  "If 
he's  on  a  salary,  or  got  a  good  business  you  might  at- 
tach  " 

"  I — I — I'm  not  prepared  to  state,"  said  Steven,  appalled 
at  the  briskness  of  Archie's  deductions.  "  I'm  just  supposing 
a  case,  you  understand." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Archie,  suppressing  a  grin.  "  Well — ah — are 
you  supposing  it  to  be  a  large  sum,  Mr.  Gwynne?" 

"  A  debt's  a  debt,"  said  Steven,  with  magnificent  brevity ; 
he  could  not  resist  a  sidelong  glance  at  Eleanor  and  Mollie, 
commanding  their  admiration. 


THE    TENANTS  175 

"  Yes,  of  course,  Mr.  Gwynne,  but  there's  a  difference  be- 
tween a  debt  of  five  dollars  and  one  of  five  hundred,"  said 
Archie  peaceably.  "  If  you  can  come  to  some  kind  of  com- 
promise, it's  generally  a  great  deal  better  than  going  to  law ; 
you  may  get  a  little  less  than  you're  entitled  to,  but  you  save 
time  and  trouble  and  worry.  I  suppose  I've  heard  my  father 
say  that  to  a  hundred  clients." 

This  view  appeared  to  strike  Eleanor  and  Mollie  favour- 
ably ;  something  in  the  half-a-loaf  policy  appeals  with  a  sub- 
tle power  to  the  feminine  mind.  But  Steven's  old  face  red- 
dened; he  darted  a  vengeful  glance  at  this  Laodicean  coun- 
cillor. 

"  Compromise — nothing!  "  he  snarled.  "  I'll  see  him  da — 
I'll  see  him  farther  before  I'll  compromise !  " 

"  All  right — all  right,  I  was  just  saying  that's  one  way  of 
settling  these  things,"  said  Archie  hastily.  "  Of  course  you 
know  what  you  want,  Mr.  Gwynne.  Trouble  is,  you  go  into 
court  with  a  case,  and  you  never  know  how  long  it  will  take 
to  wind  it  up — maybe  two  or  three  years — that's  perfectly 
irrespective  of  the  rights  of  the  case.  Whereas,  if  you  accept 
some  kind  of  settlement,  you — well,  in  general,  you  come 
out  ahead  of  the  game,"  said  Archie,  falling  back  on  the 
vernacular. 

Oh,  wise  young  judge !  The  two  Misses  Gwynne  listened  to 
Archie's  exposition  with  respectful  awe.  I  have  heard  him 
say  with  a  laugh  that  at  no  time  in  his  subsequent  career — 
which  has  been  one  of  considerable  distinction — has  he  ever 
felt  himself  to  be  exerting  so  much  influence,  no,  not  in  his 
most  sustained  and  vigorous  flights  of  oratory.  "  I  might 
have  been  the  Almighty,  instead  of  a  smart- Alecky  boy,  by 
the  way  those  two  poor  old  women  were  impressed — it  was 


176  THE    TENANTS 

funny — funny  and  pitiful,"  he  says,  and  shakes  his  grizzling 
head. 

"  It's — it's  very  awful  to  have  someone  in  debt  to  you,  Mr. 
Lewis,"  Miss  Mollie  took  courage  to  say  falteringly. 

"  Not  so  bad  as  being  in  debt  to  somebody  yourself, 
though,"  said  Archie  genially.  This  well-intended  levity  was 
a  serious  mistake;  they  shrank — they  withered  before  the 
dreadful  suggestion. 

"  We — we  aren't  that,  Mr.  Lewis,"  cried  both  old  maids  in 
scared  chorus.  "  It's  not  we  that  are  in  debt — it's  somebody 
that  owes  us " 

"  That  owes  the  GWYNNE  ESTATE,"  said  Steven  pon- 
derously. He  had  forgot  all  about  his  supposititious  case,  and 
Archie,  who,  as  he  himself  might  have  said,  was  not  born 
yesterday,  had  already  made  a  shrewd  guess  as  to  the  iden- 
tity of  the  debtor. 

"  A  debt's  a  bad  business,  anyway  you  fix  it,"  he  said 
easily.  "  Reminds  me  of  that  story  father  tells  of  himself 
when  he  was  a  boy  borrowing  money  of  their  old  coloured 
man  to  go  to  the  circus  with.  '  Chile,'  says  old  Mose,  8  you's 
got  to  'member  this ;  er  debt  that  ain't  paid  stahts  er  roor- 
back! You  owe  me,  an'  I  owe  Pete,  an'  Pete  he  owes  that  wall- 
eyed niggah  oveh  at  the  liv'ry-stable,  an'  lakly  Mistah  Wall- 
eye, he  owes  somebody  else,  an'  'twell  one  of  us  stahts  the  pay- 
in',  nobuddy  cyahn't  pay — an'  thar's  your  roorback! ' 
Archie  laughed.  He  laughed  alone,  for  this  sprightly  tale, 
although  he  had  recited  it  in  a  careful  imitation  of  Judge 
Lewis'  best  manner,  apparently  failed  to  amuse  anybody  but 
himself.  Perhaps  it  went  too  near  the  truth  to  be  wholly  agree- 
able. "  I  never  realised  until  that  moment,"  he  used  to  say 
with  a  certain  naivete,  "  what  an  awful  job  poor  Gwynne 


THE    TENANTS  177 

Peters  had  for  years  with  those  people.  I'll  bet  nobody  knows 
or  ever  will  know  what  he  put  up  with !  " 

His  new  sympathy  put  a  greater  warmth  into  his  greeting 
when  Gwynne  at  last  came  in,  a  few  minutes  later.  Archie, 
as  he  explained  his  errand,  noted  inwardly  that  his  friend's 
face  wTas  drawn  and  tired;  nor  did  he  wonder  much  at  the 
grim  look  Gwynne  cast  around  the  waiting  family-circle. 

"  You're  late,  Gwynne,"  said  old  Steven,  fierce-eyed  under 
his  shaggy  brows. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Gwynne,  in  a  harsh  voice.  "  I  had  to  go 
out  to  the  country  this  morning,  and  that  put  me  back  with 
everything." 

"  You  mean  to  the  house?  You've  been  out  to  the  house?  " 

Steven  asked  eagerly.  "You've  talked  to  Pall ?" 

Gwynne  looked  at  him  steadily.  "  No,  I  haven't.  I've  been 
out  to  see  Sam.  Will  you  please  let  me  have  my  chair,  Cousin 
Steven?  I  want  to  make  a  note  of  this  for  Judge  Lewis." 
"  It's  no  matter,"  said  Archie  hurriedly,  anxious  to  escape 
as  much  on  the  Gwynnes'  account  as  on  his  own.  ("  I  was 
afraid  they  were  in  for  a  regular  family-row  and  I  wanted  to 
get  out,"  he  said.  "  Why,  you  might  have  known  something 
was  wrong  with  Gwynne,  by  his  coming  out  about  Sam  that 
way.  That  was  the  first  time  I  ever  knew  him  to  do  anything 
like  that!")  "Never  mind,  Gwynne — father  said  you  could 
keep  them  as  long  as  you  wanted.  I'll  stop  in  some  other 
time.  You're — you're  busy  now." 

"  I  wish  you'd  stay,  Arch,"  said  Gwynne  desperately.  The 
others  sat  in  a  ghastly  silence,  even  the  old  man.  He  got  up 
and  surrendered  the  chair  to  Gwynne  without  a  word.  The 
sisters  hardly  dared  look  at  each  other,  in  the  trepidation 
produced  by  the  mere  mention  of  Sam's  name.   Thus  care- 


178  THE    TENANTS 

lessly  or  rashly  to  flaunt  Sam  in  the  public  view,  and  invite 
attention  to  him  seemed  to  them  nothing  less  than  a  profane 
assault  on  the  temple  of  the  Gwynne  reputation — that  edifice 
propped  and  shored  through  so  many  years  by  what  profit- 
less sacrifices,  what  wrong-headed  devotion,  what  pitiful  and 
heroic  subterfuge !  At  this  rate  Gwynne  might  say  something 
about  his  Aunt  Caroline,  they  thought  in  quaking  panic.  The 
veil  of  the  sanctum  was  rent  in  twain — what  would  he  do  or 
say  next? 

He  did  nothing;  and  after  Archie  had  taken  his  leave,  it 
was  Eleanor  who  quavered,  frightened,  yet  with  a  real  sym- 
pathy for  him  stirring  at  her  elderly  maiden  heart :  "  Is  any- 
thing the  matter,  Gwynne?  With — with  Sam,  I  mean?" 

"  Yes,  Dr.  Sheckard  sent  for  me.  They  think  he'll  have  to 
be  taken  away — sent  to  some  other  place.  He's — well,  rest- 
less, you  know." 

"  That'll  take  money,  Gwynne,"  said  Steven  abruptly. 
Now  that  Archie's  restraining  presence  had  been  removed, 
he  was  eager  to  get  to  the  business  in  hand,  and  designed 
by  one  or  two  tactful  remarks  of  this  nature  to  lead  up  to 
it.  Eleanor  and  Mollie  shrank  a  little;  they  were  genuinely 
and  self-forgetfully  interested  in  their  unfortunate  kinsman. 

"  I'll  manage  it,  somehow,"  said  Gwynne  briefly.  He  put 
aside  his  domestic  tragedy  without  much  effort ;  to  the  ob- 
servant mind  the  facility  with  which  we  get  used  to  our  lives 
is  the  one  great  everyday  miracle.  Let  them  visit  us  with 
what  trials  they  will,  we  defeat  the  gods  by  our  submission. 
Gwynne  addressed  himself  to  the  task  of  the  moment  with  no 
further  thought  of  Sam.  "  You  wanted  to  see  me  about  some- 
thing, Cousin  Eleanor?"  he  asked,  foreseeing  drearily  what 
the  answer  would  be.  But  in  spite  of  all  their  preparation, 


THE    TENANTS  179 

the  direct  question  startled  them ;  the  neat  and  perfectly  lady- 
like speeches  in  which  Eleanor  and  Mollie  had  coached  each 
other  for  days  vanished  from  their  minds — from  their  one 
mind,  I  might  almost  say.  They  looked  at  him  with  stricken 
faces.  "  There  is   something  you   wanted  to   see  me  about, 
Cousin   Mollie?"    repeated   Gwynne — and   could  have   cried 
"  For  shame !  "  at  the  forbidding  coldness  of  his  own  voice, 
"  Oh,  Gwynne,"  said  Miss  Mollie,  trembling  a  good  deal, 
and  thrusting  her  paper  at  him.  "  I — we — Eleanor  and  I 
don't  want  you  to  think  that  we  are  unappreciative,  or — or 
that  we've  any  fault  to  find  with  the  way  you've  managed  our 
property — you've  done  everything  you  could,  we  know  that, 
Gwynne,  and  you're  always  so  good  to  us."  Her  voice  broke, 
but  she  went  on  resolutely.  "  But  I — we  don't  know  whether 
you've  noticed  anything  lately,  or  whether  any  of  the  others 
have   told   you — you're    so   busy — and   we   know   a   woman 
oughtn't  to   interfere,   or   ask  questions   about  her   money, 
Gwynne — and — and  we  oughtn't  to  come  to  your  office,  we 
know  that — it's  no  place  for  a  lady — but  we're — we're  so 
worried,  we  couldn't  help  it.  You  don't  mind  our  being  here, 
do  you?  We  thought  at  first  we'd  write,  only  it  takes  so  much 

longer "  here  poor  Miss  Mollie  broke  down  completely 

and  began  to  cry  in  a  noiseless  and  unimpeachably  ladylike 
manner  into  her  black-bordered  handkerchief.  Miss  Eleanor 
took  up  the  thread,  having  conquered  her  own  tears: 

"  We  thought  perhaps  you  didn't  know,  Gwynne,  if  Mr. 
Templeton  hadn't  told  you,  but  the  Pallinders — that  is,  Col- 
onel Pallinder,  you  know,  they  haven't  paid  us  any  rent  for 
our  house  for  over  a  year — it's  on  the  paper,  we  added  it  up 
— I  know  it's  right,  because  we  did  it  by  long  division,  and 
then  multiplied  to  make  sure — and  it's  a  hundred  and  twenty 


180  THE    TENANTS 

dollars  they're  owing  us,  Gwynne,  and — and  we  thought  you'd 
do  something,  if  you  knew " 

"  Well,  you  needn't  worry — he  won't!  "  said  Steven,  sav- 
agely satirical.  Both  handkerchiefs  were  going  now ;  but  the 
two  old  maids  scarcely  heard  Steven ;  they  regarded  Gwynne 
with  a  heart-breaking  confidence. 

"  Why — yes — I  knew  about  this,  Cousin  Eleanor,"  the 
young  man  began,  with  a  wretched  feeling  of  humbug.  "  The 
only  thing  about  commencing  proceedings  to  recover — bring- 
ing suit,  you  know — is  the — the  publicity — you  might  have 
to  appear  in  court  and  testify — and  it  would  all  be  in  the 
papers,  like  a — a  scandal " 

"  Oh,  scandal — bosh !  "  cried  Steven  wrathf ull}T.  Elea- 
nor and  Mollie  were  looking  at  Gwynne  with  affrighted  eyes 
over  their  handkerchiefs ;  but  Steven's  masculine  mind,  even 
if  none  of  the  strongest,  could  not  in  nature  be  always 
wrought  upon  so  easily.  These  arguments  were  old  to  him 
and  their  effect  was  dulled.  "  Scandal !  There's  no  scandal 
about  going  to  law  to  get  your  money !  "  he  said  impatiently, 
and  with  justice.  "  And  as  for  publicity,  you  could  fix  all 
that,  if  you  wanted  to,  Gwynne,  you  know  it.  They  could — 
they  could  make  oath  before  a  notary,  couldn't  they?  v 

"  We — we  wouldn't  have  to  do  anything,  if  he  could  just 
get  us  a  little  of  it — the — the  way  Mr.  Lewis  said,  you  know, 
Mollie,"  Eleanor  faltered. 

"Arch?  Did  you  tell  him  about  this?"  Gwynne  asked, 
disturbed. 

"  No  harm  if  we  had,"  said  Steven,  contentiously.  But 
Mollie  looked  at  Gwynne  in  dread.  "  No,  no — we  didn't  say 
a  thing — we  didn't  say  a  word,  Gwynne — but  he  just  hap- 
pened to  say  that  debts  were  sometimes  compromised — you 


THE    TENANTS  181 

took  some,  not  all,  you  know,  but  you  didn't  have  any  law-? 


suit- 


"  If  we  could  get  a  little "  said  Eleanor  anxiously. 

"  A  little!  That's  like  a  woman !  "  said  Steven  in  strong 
disgust.  "  A  little!  Don't  you  pay  any  attention  to  'em, 
Gwynne ! " 

"Do  you  need  money,  Cousin  Eleanor?"  asked  Gwynne 
gently. 

Mollie  began  to  cry  hysterically  again. 

"  We  don't  want  you  to  advance  any,  Gwynne,"  said  old 
Eleanor,  trembling  and  turning  very  pale.  "  You've  done 
that  before,  and — and  now  you  will  need  all  your  money  for 
poor  Sam.  And — and  besides,  Gwynne,  I — I — we're  not  fit 
to  be  trusted  with  money — I — I  was  going  to  tell  you,  only 
it's  so  hard — but  we're — we're — we've  been  very  wicked 
women ! "  She  burst  out  sobbing.  Gwynne  might  have 
smiled  at  this  lurid  statement  from  two  such  timid,  plaintive 
and  abjectly  respectable  old  maiden  ladies  if  the  circum- 
stances had  left  him  any  heart  for  smiling. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Cousin  Eleanor? — don't  cry 
that  way!"  he  said,  distressed.  "It's  not  your  fault,  you 
know.  Now  I  promise  you  I'll  see  about  it — I'll  get  your 
money  for  you — these  things  are  bound  to  take  a  little  time, 
you  know " 

"  Huh !  You  said  that  before — you've  said  it  a  dozen 
times!"  said  Steven.  He  looked  at  Gwynne  with  open  sus- 
picion. "  Will  you  come  with  me  over  to  Pallinder's  office 
now?  " 

"  No,  no,  don't  do  that ;  wait  till  I've  told  him  everything, 
Steven — wait  a  minute,  Gwynne !  "  cried  Eleanor,  laying  her 
damp   hands   and   handkerchief   on   the   young   man's    arm. 


182  THE    TENANTS 

"  Gwynne ! "  she  said  tragically,  "  it's  quite  true — we're 
wicked,  wicked  women !  We  took — Mollie  and  I  took  all  our 
money — it  was  that  thousand  dollars  that  we  got  when 
Cousin  Lucien  died,  you  know,  that  we'd  always  put  away 
to  use  if  we  were  sick — or,  or  got  married — or  anything,  and 
some  besides  that  we'd  saved  up — it  was  last  year — and  we 
thought  the  rent  would  be  coming  in  all  the  time,  and  we 
counted  on  that — you  know  we  were  quite  sure,  Gwynne,  or 
we  wouldn't  have  done  it — and — and — we'd  heard  about  so 
many  people  making  money  in  stocks — Caleb  Spicer — that's 
the  vegetable-man  we've  taken  from  for  ever  so  long,  and  I 
know  Caleb's  honest — he  told  us  about  his  brother-in-law — 
only  Caleb  didn't  tell  us  about  this  stock,  Gwynne,  it  wasn't 
Caleb's  fault  at  all,  I  wouldn't  have  you  think  that — his 
brother-in-law's  stock  was  some  ether  kind,  don't  remember 
what  now.  And  we — we  bought  some  tock,  Gwynne — it  was 
6  Phosphate  ' — a  mine,  or  was  it  a  well,  Sister  Mollie?  We — 
we've  never  had  any  money,  Gwynne,  I  mean  much,  you  know 
— and  we — we've  had  to  save  so,  and  go  without  a  girl  and 
all — and  make  our  own  clothes — and  we  did  so  want  to  have  a 
little  more — and  we  thought  it  would  get  to  be  worth  double 
or  treble  in  the  least  little  while,  the  way  those  things  do — 
the  way  Caleb's  brother-in-law's  did — and  besides   Colonel 

Pallinder  said  it  would " 

"  What!  "  said  Gwynne.  He  got  up.  His  face  blanched; 
the  likeness  to  old  Samuel  Gwynne  leaped  out  upon  his  feat- 
ures so  strong,  so  lowering,  that  Eleanor  and  Mollie  invol- 
untarily drew  back,  appalled.  They  supposed  the  confession 
had  angered  him.  "  We  didn't  know  anything  about  it, 
Gwynne,"  they  both  began.  "We  didn't  know — we  didn't 
mean  to  do  anything  wrong !  " 


u 


THE    TENANTS  183 

"  You  didn't  do  anything  wrong,"  said  Gwynne,  with  an  ef- 
fort.  "  Go  on.   What  has  happened?  " 

"  It  was  all  my  fault,  Gwynne,"  said  Eleanor,  generously. 

I  put  it  into  Mollie's  head — it  was  my  fault,  all  of  it." 

"  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  about  that,  Nellie,"  said 
Mollie.  "  I  was  just  as  much  to  blame — you  couldn't  have 
done  it  without  me.  We — we've  found  out  a  terrible  thing 
about  6  Phosphate,'  Gwynne — it's — it's  not  going  to  double 
at  all.  We  thought  we'd  get  some  money  right  away,  and  we 
didn't — and  then  we  waited — and  we  didn't  get  any — and  we 
were  afraid  to  ask  Colonel  Pallinder,  for  fear  it  would  look 
as  if — as  if — we  didn't  believe  in  him — don't,  Gwynne,  don't 
look  that  way !  And  then  at  last  we  went  down  to  the  Third 
National  where  our  money  used  to  be ;  we  got  Mary  to  go  with 
us,  because  we  were  afraid  to  go  by  ourselves,  and  besides  it's 
not  ladylike ;  she  knows  your  friend,  Mr.  Taylor,  that  great 
big  tall  young  man  that's  in  there  back  in  the  brass-wired-off 
place,  you  know,  Gwynne.  And  Mary  wasn't  a  bit  afraid; 
she  just  asked  for  him,  and  he  came  out  and  took  the  paper — 
it's  a  certificate,  isn't  it? — and  looked  at  it,  and  then  went 
back  into  the  president's  room,  and  we  heard  some  men 
laughing,  Gwynne.  And  then  Mr.  McAlpine  himself  came 
out  after  a  while,  and  he  came  up  and  said  he  knew  we'd  be- 
lieve him,  because  of  his  being  president,  and  he  was  sorry 
to  have  to  tell  us,  but  that  stock  wasn't  worth  the  paper  it 
was  printed  on,  and  he  wanted  to  know  whose  advice  we  had 
acted  on  in  buying  it.  So  he  and  Mary  and  Mr.  Taylor  and 
you  are  the  only  people  that  know  anything  about  it, 
Gwynne,  and — and — if  it  don't  go  any  farther  than  that,  it 
won't — it  won't  be  a  disgrace  to  you  or  the  family,"  said 
poor  old  Mollie  with  tears. 


184  THE    TENANTS 

Gwynne  looked  at  them  helplessly.  That  these  two  shy, 
fearsome,  frugal,  penny-wise  old  gentlewomen  could  have 
ventured  their  all  upon  one  reckless  stake  like  the  worst  and 
wildest  gambler  that  ever  tossed  his  last  dollar  on  the  cloth, 
was  well-nigh  inconceivable — but  the  thing  had  happened! 
It  was  not  merely  unexpected,  it  was  impossible — and  it  had 
happened !  If  he  had  been  asked  to  name  the  members  of  his 
family  who  might  most  safely  be  trusted  to  hoard  and  watch 
over  their  lean  inheritance,  he  would  have  pitched  upon  El- 
eanor and  Mollie ;  he  would  have  supposed  them  impregnable 
behind  their  barrier  of  timorous  ignorance,  entrenched  for- 
ever in  the  habit  of  grinding  economy — and  lo,  that  very 
childish  inexperience,  that  thriftless  parsimony,  had  been 
their  undoing! 

"  Well,  but  whose  advice  did  you  take?  "  he  asked.  "  You 
surely  asked  somebody  besides  Caleb  What's-his-name?  Why 
didn't  you  come  to  me — or  Cousin  Jennie  ?  " 

"  But  Jennie  wouldn't  have  let  us  do  it,  you  know,"  said 
Eleanor,  with  entire  simplicity.  "  There  wouldn't  have  been 
any  use  asking  her.  And  we  were  so  sure — we  thought 
Colonel  Pallinder's  advice  was  enough — we  knew  you  wouldn't 
go  to  the  house  so  much  if  you  didn't  think  he  was  to  be 
trusted — you  wouldn't  go  where  anybody  was  dishonourable. 
But  I  don't  believe  he  is  honourable,  Gwynne ;  of  course,  he's 
had  misfortunes  with  '  Phosphate '  like  ourselves,  but  if  he 
were  really  honourable,  he'd  pay  our  rent." 

The  young  man  was  silenced;  anger  and  shame  surged 
together  within  him.  The  most  expert  of  fencers  could  not 
have  pricked  him  closer  home  than  Eleanor  with  her  simple 
earnestness  of  belief.     Their  faith  blackened  him  in  his  own 


THE    TENANTS  185 

eyes;  their  affection  stung;  their  tremulous  apologies 
scourged. 

"  Never  mind,  Cousin  Mollic — don't  cry — I'll  take  care  of 
you,"  he  said,  huskily,  at  last.  "  Now  let  me  get  a  carriage 
and  send  you  home — and  don't  worry  about  your  money,  nor 
the  rent — I'll  get  it  back  for  you  some  way  or  another " 

Mollie  and  Eleanor  cried  harder  than  ever;  mingled  with 
their  ghastly  visions  of  ultimate  destitution,  and  much  more 
concretely  awful,  had  been  the  fear  of  what  Gwynne  would 
say,  of  what  he  would  think  when  he  heard  the  shameful  news. 
Their  tears  comforted  them ;  and  I  dare  say  that  many  a  real 
sinner  has  touched  thus  the  utter  depth,  and  found  there  a 
like  unexpected  peace. 

"  Oh,  Gwynne,  you're  so  good  to  us — and  with  poor  Sam 
on  your  mind  all  the  time,  too — but  you  never  think  about 
yourself  at  all !  " 

Gwynne  almost  smiled.  Sam?  What  care  had  he  given 
to  Sam  or  Sam's  interests  of  late?  And  of  whom  had  he  been 
thinking,  if  not  solely  of  himself? 

"  Now  promise  me  you  won't  worry,"  he  said,  urgently 
kind.     "  I'll  fix  it  all  right " 

"  You've  been  saying  that  a  good  while  to  me,  and 
nothing's  come  of  it  so  far,"  said  Steven  distrustfully. 
"  Hope  you  ain't  forgetting  that  it's  Sam's  money,  too, 
you've  been  letting  go  all  this  year  and  a  half?" 

"  I'm  not  forgetting  it,  Cousin  Steven,"  said  Gwynne,  turn- 
ing his  haggard  eyes  on  the  other.     "  I  won't  forget  Sam." 

After  they  had  gone,  Gwynne  went  back  to  the  office  and 
sat  a  long  while  with  his  set  face  staring  at  that  other  face 
on  the  wall,  under  whose  shadow  he  had  lived  his  whole  life, 


186  THE    TENANTS 

without,  as  it  would  seem,  profiting  much  by  the  association. 
There  he  sat — and  I  think  we  may  very  well  refrain  from 
spying  on  him.  Doubtless  he  did  full  justice  upon  Gwynne 
Peters  that  spring  afternoon,  alone  with  his  condemning 
thoughts ;  doubtless  every  selfish  lie,  every  mean  evasion  rose 
up  and  confronted  him;  doubtless  he  took  himself  to  task 
more  sternly  than  he  deserved,  and  fancied  he  sat,  a  broken 
man,  amongst  the  ruins  of  a  dishonoured  life.  Hardly,  I 
am  sure,  at  his  present  age,  can  Gwynne  look  back  upon  that 
hour  with  an  equal  mind ;  when  it  recurs  to  him,  the  taste  of 
his  folly  must  yet  be  bitter  on  his  tongue.  He  is  to-day  a 
successful  man,  greatly  liked,  greatly  respected.  Mrs. 
Gwynne  Peters,  I  believe,  is  a  very  happy  wife  and  mother, 
not  at  all  jealous,  and  having  no  cause  to  be.  But  has 
Gwynne  ever  mentioned  Mrs.  Pallinder  to  her?  He  might 
do  so  without  a  blush,  but  he  probably  feels  that  it  would  be 
an  unprofitable  business ;  let  the  old  ashes  lie,  and  let  the  lost 
corners  grow  up  with  weeds  and  be  forgot.  Wives  and  hus- 
bands, if  they  be  wise,  will  not  go  prospecting  in  the  re- 
mote places  of  each  other's  hearts,  lest  they  chance  upon 
some  of  these  disquieting  ruins — ugly  little  cairns,  decrepit 
old  tombstones.  The  days  were  lengthening,  yet  it  was  twi- 
light as  Gwynne  walked  home;  street-lamps  burned  dimly 
through  the  foggy  spring  air,  and  the  newsboys  were  cry- 
ing the  last  edition. 


CHAPTER    FOURTEEN 

DOCTOR  VARDAMAN  was  not  a  wealthy  man ; 
he  occupied  what  he  considered  the  golden 
mean,  the  "  neither  poverty  nor  riches  "  of  the 
Preacher ;  enough  to  live  in  a  simple,  uncalcu- 
lating  ease.  His  chief  pastime,  as  he  used  to  describe  it  with 
some  amusement,  was  the  practising  of  certain  small  economies 
whereby  he  accumulated  enough  to  indulge  himself  once  in 
a  while  with  an  expensive  new  edition,  or  rare  and  equally 
high-priced  old  one.  Like  most  professional  men,  he  had  no 
turn  for  affairs,  and  no  temptation  ever  assailed  him  to 
"  take  a  flyer  in  Phosphate,"  or  anything  else.  It  was,  there- 
fore, without  any  idea  of  investment  that  he  scaled  the  stairs 
leading  to  Colonel  Pallinder's  office  a  few  days  after  the 
Misses  Gwynne  had  visited  Gwynne's  to  explain  their  opera- 
tions in  finance.  He  was,  in  fact,  bent  on  an  errand  that 
took  him  past  the  colonel's  door,  and  into  the  rear  of  the 
Turner  Building,  where  the  City  Superintendent  of  Parks 
and  Gardens  had  a  retiring,  little,  unfrequented  room.  The 
doctor  wanted  to  file  objections  against  the  setting  up  of  sev- 
eral monumental  bill-boards  and  advertising  signs  on  the 
vacant  lots  along  the  west  side  of  Richmond  Avenue,  facing 
number  201.  "  As  a  physician  in  good  standing,  sir,"  he 
expounded  vigorously,  yet  not  without  a  smile,  to  the  City 
Superintendent,  who  was  an  old  acquaintance  and  ex-patient. 
"  I  dislike  to  be  confronted  every  time  I  open  my  front  door 
with  '  Geary's  Purple  Pills  '  for  various  disorders  not  com- 

18T 


188  THE    TENANTS 

monly  referred  to  in  polite  society.  And  as  a  patriotic  cit- 
izen, I  don't  want  to  see  our  town  disfigured  by  any  such  mon- 
strosities ! " 

Coming  away  with  his  point  half  gained,  he  once  more 
passed  Colonel  Pallinder's  office  door.  At  that  time  the  Tur- 
ner Building  was  at  the  very  core  of  our  business  district. 
There  was  a  bank  on  the  ground  floor,  the  old  Third  National 
— J.  B.  had  some  position  in  it,  assistant  bookkeeper,  per- 
haps. One  used  to  catch  fleeting  glimpses  of  the  young  fel- 
low's big  shoulders  in  shirt-sleeves,  and  sleek,  dark  head  on 
an  altitudinous  stool  behind  gilt  wire  screens,  through 
the  plate-glass  windows  on  the  Market  Street  side.  On  his 
last  visit  he  told  me  that  he  had  gone  down  Market  Street  and 
walked  past  those  old  windows  in  a  sentimental  mood,  recall- 
ing the  brave  days  when  he  was  twenty-one.  "  I  got  sixty  a 
month,"  he  said,  "  and  thought  I  was  doing  first-rate !  It's 
hard  to  believe  that  that  old  rookery  was  the  best  office  build- 
ing in  town.  We  hadn't  the  beginnings  of  an  idea  about 
fire-proof  construction;  but  there  was  an  elevator,  and  the 
bank  had  a  floor  of  black  and  red  tiles,  remember?  The  pas- 
sages were  so  dim  the  gas  had  to  be  kept  burning  at  noon- 
day. The  steam-heating  apparatus  must  have  been  one  of 
the  first  put  in ;  anyway  it  never  did  very  well,  and  was  for- 
ever breaking  down.  I've  worked  in  my  overcoat  many  a 
time,  with  a  blue  nose,  figuring  away  with  my  stiff  fingers. 
Harvey  Smith — you  know,  Jim's  brother — had  a  law-office 
with  some  other  young  chap,  I've  forgot  who,  now,  on  the 
third  floor,  and  they  set  up  a  sheet-iron  cannon-stove  to  keep 
from  freezing  to  death.  There  wasn't  much  business  coming 
Harvey's  way  in  those  days — we  used  to  wonder  hqw  he  made 
out." 


THE    TENANTS  189 

That  part  of  town  is  now  given  over  to  warehouses  and 
junk-shops.  The  dirty,  draughty  hallways  of  the  Turner 
Building  are  very  empty  and  melancholy.  They  used  to  be 
handsomely  carpeted  with  cocoa-matting,  and  in  the  odd 
corners  one  came  upon  little  pyramids  of  tin  spittoons  piled 
up  handily  by  the  janitor,  either  just  washed  or  in  need  of 
washing.  The  place  was  as  busy  as  an  anthill  that  morning 
when  Doctor  Vardaman  paced  along  the  cocoa-paths  on  his 
way  out.  Near  the  top  of  the  stairs — which  were  generally 
preferred  to  the  elevator — he  encountered  Colonel  Pallinder 
ushering  from  his  office  somebody  with  a  shawl  and  bonnet 
and  fat  black  umbrella,  whose  outlines  in  the  semi-obscurity 
appeared  vaguely  familiar  to  the  old  gentleman's  casual 
glance. 

"Is  that  you,  Doctor?  Come  in,  come  in,  sir,"  said  the 
colonel,  promptly  relinquishing  his  client  ("  In  point  of  fact, 
he  dropped  her  like  a  hot  potato,"  the  doctor  said  after- 
wards), when  he  saw  who  was  approaching.  And,  overriding 
the  doctor's  demurrer,  "  Oh,  nonsense,  I  say  come  m,  sir ! 
Why,  we've  got  a  little  business  together,  forgot  that,  hey?  " 
He  smote  Doctor  Vardaman  a  light,  humorous,  affectionate 
blow  on  the  shoulder  and  pushed  him  into  the  office.     "  I  don't 

want  to  interrupt  you "  the  doctor  began,  accepting  at 

last  the  handsome  leather  chair  his  host  pulled  forward.  He 
glanced  about  curiously,  rolling  the  colonel's  excellent  Ha- 
vana between  his  fingers.  The  Pallinders  possessed  the 
secret  of  a  delightful  spontaneous  and  whole-souled  hospital- 
ity ;  the  stranger  within  their  gates  was  unaffectedly  welcome 
to  the  best  they  had — and  the  best  they  had  was  very  good 
indeed;  self-denial  was  a  virtue  they  never  needed  to  prac- 
tise, apparently.     The  atmosphere  of  their  house  was  always 


190  THE    TENANTS 

kind,  gay,  care-free,  and  they  themselves  highly  ornamental. 
Colonel  Pallinder  bustled  about  the  doctor  with  a  dozen  pleas- 
ant little  attentions,  yet  contrived  somehow  never  to  be  offi- 
cious. It  is  a  strange  thing,  and  a  depressing  instance  of 
the  inborn  tendency  to  evil  of  the  human  race,  that  it  has  been 
within  the  experience  of  everyone  of  us,  I  think,  to  lodge  with 
and  suffer  the  kindnesses  of  many  virtuous  families  to  whom 
the  name  and  the  habits  of  the  Pallinders  would  be  anathema 
— and  we  shrink  from  remembering  how  incredibly  we  were 
bored  thereby! 

The  office  was  a  rich,  comfortable  place.  Everything 
was  new;  the  colonel's  mahogany  roll-top  desk,  the  leather 
lounge,  which,  Doctor  Vardaman  noted  inwardly,  had  the  air 
of  being  pretty  constantly  in  use,  the  brilliantly  glazed  maps 
of  "  Phosphate  "  territory  gleaming  on  the  walls.  A  great 
accumulation  of  mail  loaded  the  desk;  the  colonel's  corre- 
spondence was  evidently  something  colossal.  There  were  num- 
berless pamphlets,  circulars,  prospectuses,  and  newspaper 
clippings  with  rows  of  figures  accompanied  by  at  least  half- 
a-dozen  ciphers  printed  conspicuously  at  the  top.  "  The 
ARKANSAS  CONSOLIDATED  PHOSPHATE,  COAL, 
AND  IRON  COMPANY,  CAPITAL  AND  SURPLUS 
$4,455,000.00."  "  EL  PASO  #  RIO  GRANDE  EXTEN- 
SION is  the  BEST  ZINC  STOCK  on  the  market  at  the 
price.  EL  PASO  MINES  have  paid  over  $172,000,000.00 
in  dividends.  We  strongly  recommend  this  STOCK  for  IN- 
VESTMENT.  Ballard  &  Co.,  Wall  St.,  N.  Y.  William 
Pallinder,  Agt."  Doctor  Vardaman  surveyed  these  and  like 
documents  with  a  kind  of  satirical  interest.  "  Of  course," 
he  used  to  explain,  "  I  had  had  more  than  a  suspicion  for  a 
good  while  that  '  Phosphate '  and  '  Zinc '  and  the  colonel's 


THE    TENANTS  191 

capitalist  friends  were  all  more  or  less  mythical.  You  can't 
be  as  intimate  as  I  was  with  a  man  like  that  for  two  years 
and  not  '  get  a  line  on  him,'  as  the  boys  say.  And  then  there 
was  Steven  and  that  terrific  flare-up  he  had  with  Gwynne 
about  the  rent  in  my  own  library.  Latterly  I  had  begun  to 
have  a  pretty  well-defined  notion  that  Pallinder  was  in  a  tight 
place — getting  near  the  end  of  his  rope  in  our  town,  at  least. 
Along  in  the  fall  sometime  he  had  borrowed  fifty  dollars  of 
me  on  some  pretext ;  and  I  not  unnaturally  supposed  that  he 
wanted  to  corner  me  into  lending  him  another  fifty,  or  maybe 
thought  that  with  my  hazy  ideas  about  business  he  might 
make  a  sale  of  *  Phosphate.'  I  was  a  good  deal  interested 
to  see  how  he  would  go  about  it ;  I'd  quite  made  up  my  mind 
not  to  do  either,  you  know — lend  him  the  fifty,  or  buy  any 
stock,  I  mean." 

What  then  was  the  doctor's  astonishment  when  Colonel 
Pallinder  impressively  brought  out  an  elegant  dark  green 
Russia-leather  purse  and  card-case  combined,  with 
"  W.  B.  P."  intertwined  in  a  gold  monogram  on  one  side, 
and  from  a  thick  layer  of  greenbacked  bills  therein  selected 
a  fifty-dollar  one  and  laid  it  on  the  old  gentleman's  knee ! 
Doctor  Vardaman  stared  at  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  specimen 
from  the  flora  of  another  planet. 

"  Now,  now,  now,  no  objections!  I  insist,"  said  the  colo- 
nel, rather  unnecessarily  in  view  of  the  doctor's  dumb  sur- 
prise. "  It's  a  matter  of  principle  with  me,  even  about  such 
paltry  sums  as  this,  that  short  settlements  make  long 
friends,"  he  continued,  conveniently  oblivious  of  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  in  the  other's  debt  for  this  particular  paltry  sum 
more  than  six  months.  "  Never  could  understand,  sir,  how 
a  man  can  go  on  owing  and  owing  people  simply  because  he 


192  THE    TENANTS 

knows  they're  his  friends  and  won't  dun  him.  That's  a 
queer  idea  of  honesty,  seems  to  me,"  said  the  colonel,  looking 
Doctor  Vardaman  in  the  eye  with  a  frank  and  open  smile. 
"  You  don't  come  down  this  way  very  often,  Doctor.  I  sup- 
pose you  think  all  this — "  he  waved  his  hand  around — "  mar- 
ket-place— beasts  at  Ephesus,  hey  ?  " 

"  I'm  a — I'm  a  little  out  of  place,  I  fear,"  the  doctor 
stammered,  still  in  a  confusion.  "  I  hope  I  didn't  drive  your 
client  away." 

Colonel  Pallinder  threw  back  his  head  in  hearty  amuse- 
ment. "  Oh,  Lord,  that  wasn't  a  client,  Doctor,  that  old 
creature — what  was  her  name  now,  MacGonigal,  MacGilli- 
gan,  MacSomething?  No,  I  was  trying  to  get  rid  of  her  as 
gently  as  might  be  without  hurting  her  feelings.  For  after 
all  people  like  that  have  feelings,  you  know ;  they  are  worthy 
of  some  consideration;  hang  it,  a  gentleman  has  only  one 
kind  of  manners.  I'm  glad  she  came  in  while  my  clerks  were 
all  out,  and  saw  me  instead  of  any  of  them — you  know  what 
Jack-in-office  is.  Why,  sir,  you  have  no  conception  of  how 
we  are  bothered  by  that  kind  of  person.  They  watch  the 
stock  market  for  a  while,  or  get  to  talking  with  their  friends, 
and  then  the  first  thing  you  know  they  come  in  here  all 
agog  with  their  savings — a  hundred,  two  hundred,  per- 
haps three  hundred  dollars,  wanting  to  invest!  It's  the 
hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  make  them  understand 
that  we  can't  handle  little  dabs  like  that;  they're  twice  as 
much  trouble  as  other  people's  tens  of  thousands.  Your 
small  investor  is  eternally  writing  and  making  inquiries 
about  this  stock  and  that  stock,  wanting  to  change,  want- 
ing to  transfer,  wanting  to  sell,  wanting  to  buy,  wanting 
to    be    reassured    perpetually    at    the    slightest    fluctuation 


THE    TENANTS  193 

of    the    market.    'Do    you    think    my    stock    is    all    right? 
Will  it  go  any  higher?    Will  it  go   any  lower?'    Like  as 
not  he  sees  some  perfectly  worthless  stuff  advertised  broad- 
cast   and   promptly   sit   down   and   writes   me,    all    on   fire: 
1  William  Pallinder,  Esq.,  Dear  Sir:  Would  like  your  opinion 
about  the  enclosed  clipping  relating  to  Timbuctoo  and  South 
Pole  Railway  shares.     Hadn't  I  better  take  my  dime's  worth 
of  Phosphate  Preferred  and  put  it  into  T.  &.  S.  P.?     Yours 
truly,  Jack  Ass.'  Oh,  you  may  laugh,  Doctor,  but  it's  no 
joke.     And  then,  Doctor  Vardaman,  there's  another  side  to 
it  that  I  never  lose  sight  of,"  said  the  colonel,  leaning  for- 
ward and  tapping  the  old  gentleman  on  the  hand  with  a 
grave  look.     "  That,  sir,  is  the  question  of  moral  obligation. 
Take  the  case  of  that  old  woman.     '  Why,  Mrs.  Mac-What's- 
your-name,'  says  I,  *  if  I  understand  you,  this  is  all  the  money 
you  have  ' — it  was  four  hundred  and  odd,  I  believe — '  and  you 
want  to  put  it  into  Lone  Star  common.  Now,'  says  I,  '  of 
course  that's   a  perfectly  safe  investment,  solid  as  United 
States   bonds,   non-taxable,   pays   nine   per   cent.,   and   will 
double  in  value  in  the  natural  course  of  events  before  another 
six  months;  and  what  you  say  is  quite  true,  that  you  will 
never  have  another  opportunity  of  getting  it  as  low  as  forty- 
five  ' — she  was  really  a  shrewd  and  intelligent  woman  for  her 
class,  and  for  a  minute  I  was  almost  tempted  to  let  her  have 
her   way,   for,    of   course,   there   wasn't   the   slightest    risk. 
'  Now,'  said  I,  '  if  you  had  two  or  three  thousand  or  even  one 
thousand  to  spare,  mind  you,  I  say  to  spare,  I  should  say  to 
you,  go  ahead,  by  all  means.     But,'  says  I,  '  I  can't  take  the 
responsibility  of  letting  you  invest  your  last  cent  this  way. 
just  on  my  say-so.     I've  got  my  own  money  in  it,  but  my 
money  and  your  money  are  two  very  different  propositions. 


194  THE    TENANTS 

Go  and  consult  your  lawyer,  get  the  advice  of  your  friends, 
go  to  another  broker  for  that  matter,  if  you  choose.  All  I 
would  urge  is,  do  it  soon,  or  you  may  lose  a  great  chance, 
such  as  don't  come  along  every  day.'  She  was  very  reluc- 
tant, but  I  finally  persuaded  her;  she  was  just  going  as  you 
came  along.  Oh,  of  course,  I  know  very  well,  nobody  bet- 
ter after  all  my  experience,  that  she  may  have  gone  straight 
off  to  some  other  broker  as  I  suggested,  and  he'll  get  the 
commission,  not  being  so — well,  so  squeamish  as  I  am,  but 
William  Pallinder  isn't  that — kind,  Doctor ;  we  can't  help  the 
way  we're  made,  and  I'  m — not — that — kind !  " 

He  spaced  the  last  words  out,  emphasising  them  by  a  gentle 
blow  with  a  ruler  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and  leaned  back, 
surveying  his  companion  through  a  haze  of  cigar  smoke,  with 
the  expression  of  one  who  might  have  added,  were  it  neces- 
sary :  "  Behold  in  me  a  monument  of  integrity !  " 

Doctor  Vardaman  gazed  at  the  El  Paso  and  Rio  Grande 
circulars  with  a  new  respect.  Was  it  possible,  he  asked  him- 
self, that  he  ought  to  revise  his  opinion  of  Pallinder?  To  be 
sure,  Huddesley  had  hinted — but  what  does  a  servant's  chat- 
ter amount  to  ?  And  then  there  was  that  business  of  the  un- 
paid rent — but  Gwynne  had  not  seemed  to  take  that  very 
seriously,  and  surely  he  should  know.  As  to  that  flourishing 
manner  of  the  colonel's,  we  are  prone  to  associate  it  with — 
well,  with  buncombe,  in  plain  words ;  yet  it  was,  in  fact,  en- 
tirely natural,  the  direct  result  of  certain  traditions,  early 
environment,  and  upbringing.  He  had  reached  this  point 
in  his  reflections,  smoking  silently,  when  the  colonel  was  most 
unfortunately  inspired  to  remark: 

"  I  see  you're  looking  at  that  map  of  Phosphate  territory 
in  Arkansas.     It's  a  wonderful  thing  the  way  the  Southwest 


THE    TENANTS  195 

is  opening  up,  wonderful !  All  due  to  Northern  enterprise 
and  vigour,  sir,  every  bit  of  it.  We'd  be  nowhere  with- 
out you.  You'll  find  few  men  from  my  section  of  the  country 
that  will  acknowledge  it,  but  it's  so.  I  never  did  believe  in 
keeping  up  that  spirit  of  mutual  distrust  and  jealousy— 
waving  the  bloody  shirt  and  all  that ;  let  bygones  be  bygones, 
I  say ;  let's  all  work  together  for  the  common  good,  and  give 
honour  where  honour  is  due.  Why,  sir,  it  was  a  Northern 
man — Lewis  Sheister,  from  some  little  town  up  in  New  York 
State,  that  discovered  and  worked  the  first  phosphate  vein  in 
Arkansas.  The  people  down  there  in  the  Ozarks  were  ready 
to  run  him  and  his  men  out  of  there  with  shotguns  when  he 
started  in — and  now  I  guess  they  bless  the  day  Sheister 
turned  up.  He's  worth  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  to-day, 
and  he's  been  a  factor  in  enriching  that  whole  State.  Yes, 
sir,  there's  millions  right  here."  He  rose,  and,  drawing  a 
pencil  from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  defined  a  small  circle  on  the 
shining  brittle  surface  of  the  map.  "  Right  in  that  little 
zone,  sir,  millions  for  anyone,  even  with  a  very  limited  capi- 
tal— ten  for  one,  sir,  ten  for  one  is  what  dozens  of  my  clients 
are  drawing  at  this  moment,"  said  the  colonel,  pointing  with 
his  pencil,  like  a  teacher  of  mathematics  demonstrating  at 
the  blackboard,  and  eying  the  doctor  profoundly.  "  Ever 
think  of  investing,  Doctor?  "  he  added,  indifferently,  resum- 
ing his  seat,  and  picking  a  thread  from  his  coatsleeve  as  he 
spoke. 

Alas,  the  gentleman  had  protested  too  much !  "  You'd 
find  me  one  of  your  troublesome  small  investors,  I  am  afraid," 
said  the  doctor,  wishing  uncomfortably  that  he  could  believe 
in  Pallinder.  "  It's  rarely  a  professional  man  lays  up  any 
money,  you  know." 


196  THE    TENANTS 

"  Oh,  you'd  be  a  different  pair  of  shoes,"  said  Colonel  Pal- 
linder  genially.  "  I'd  rather  handle  a  couple  of  hundred  for 
a  man  like  you  than  a  couple  of  thousand  for  some  others  I 
could  mention.  Now  I  always  contend  that  stocks  such  as 
I  deal  in  are  a  Heaven-sent  boon  to  the  man  of  moderate 
means.  Say  you  only  have  a  hundred  or  so.  You  put  it 
into  Ozark  Field  or — well — yes,  you  could  get  half-a-dozen 
shares  of  Lone  Star.  I  know  a  man,  a  banker  in  New  York, 
a  personal  friend,  you  understand,  that  I  think  I  could  per- 
suade into  parting  with  a  little  block  like  that,  although  they 
hate  to  like  the  devil — but  I  believe  he'd  do  it  for  me.  Now 
these  things  advance  so  rapidly  that  in  a  month  or  six  weeks 
you  could  sell  out  to  great  advantage — if  you  didn't  want  to 
wait  for  your  dividends,  or  found  the  speculation  kept  you  ly- 
ing awake  o'  nights,"  he  interpolated,  with  jovial  sarcasm. 
"  Of  course,  Doctor,  I  hardly  need  to  tell  a  man  of  your  intelli- 
gence and  breadth  of  view  that — um — ah — '  there's  a  tide 
in  the  affairs  of  men,'  you  know — the  time  is  coming  when 
nobody  but  the  kings  of  finance  will  be  able  to  buy  and  con- 
trol these  shares,  they're  going  up  so  fast;  but  if  you  were 
already  in  the  ring,  as  I  may  say " 

"  I  doubt  if  the  kings  of  finance  and  I  would  hit  it  off  very 
well,"  said  the  doctor  soberly.  Colonel  Pallinder  laughed 
uproariously.  He  slapped  his  knees  and  laughed,  and  wiped 
his  eyes  and  laughed  again.  Never  had  the  doctor's  dry 
humour  received  such  appreciation ;  and  not  being  acutely 
conscious  of  having  been  humorous,  he  observed  the  colonel's 
manifestations  of  delight  with  a  good  deal  of  interest. 

"  You  talk  in  a  rather  disparaging  vein  about  the  business 
ability  of  professional  men,  Doctor,"  he  said,  when  his  mirth 
had  somewhat  subsided.     "  But  the  fact  is,  I've  met  with  just 


THE    TENANTS  197 

as  much  shrewdness  among  them  as  anywhere  else.  A  suc- 
cessful lawyer,  a  widely-known  and  successful  physician  like 
yourself — why,  he's  got  to  be  very  much  above  the  average 
in  intellect  and  education  both.  A  man  like  you  can  take 
hold  of  anything,  no  matter  whether  he's  had  any  previous 
experience  or  not — he  can  take  up  anything  and  do  well  at 
it.  Now,  look  at  you!  I  suppose  you've  hardly  ever  been 
in  a  broker's  office  before  in  your  life,  and  you  come  in  here, 
and  with  scarcely  a  word  of  explanation  from  me,  grasp  the 
whole  subject  at  once!  I  tell  you  what,  I'd  like  you  to  meet 
Sheister,  and  just  hear  him  talk  Phosphate  once.  He's  a 
self-made  man,  Doctor,  no  gentleman-of-the-old-school  such 
as  you,  but  for  that  very  reason  I  think  you'd  find  it  an  in- 
teresting experience.  He'll  talk  by  the  hour  about  his  early 
trials  and  struggles — it  sounds  like  a  romance.  He  has  the 
whole  history  of  Phosphate  at  his  finger-ends.  Of  course  / 
can't  talk  about  the  stuff  except  in  a  business  way — I  only 
know  that  it's  been  a  gold  mine  for  Sheister  and  the  men 
he  got  to  go  in  with  him.  Sir,  I  knew  that  fellow  when  he 
hadn't  but  one  shirt  in  the  world,  and  he  didn't  know  where 
his  next  meal  was  to  come  from — and  now  he's  travelling 
round  in  his  private  car  with  a  valet  and  a  cook !  I've  done 
pretty  well  in  Phosphate  myself,"  said  the  colonel,  with  be- 
coming restraint ;  "  but  I'm  not  a  patch  on  Sheister. 
Really,  I'd  like  you  to  see  Mrs.  Sheister's  diamonds,  just  for 
a  curiosity.  My  wife  can't  bear  her — thinks  she's  common, 
and  all  that — you  know  how  women  are — but  I  tell  her  she's 
down  on  Mrs.  Sheister  just  because  she's  jealous  of  her  dia- 
monds." 

"Mrs.  Pallinder  has  no  cause  to  be  jealous  of  anybody's 
diamonds,  I  think,"  said  the  doctor  smoothly.     "  Our  young 


198  THE    TENANTS 

people  will  be  giving  their  entertainment  in  a  few  days  now," 
he  added,  thinking  it  high  time  to  change  the  subject.  And 
the  colonel  glided  away  on  the  new  tack  as  gracefully  as 
if  the  manoeuvre  had  been  of  his  own  suggestion. 

"  Yes,  and  what  do  you  think  that  daughter  of  mine  said 
to  me  the  other  day?  It  seems  they  have  to  make  a  great 
show  of  jewelry  in  the  second  play — what's  the  name  of  it — 
'  Mrs.  Tinkleton'?  Mazie's  '  Mrs.  Tinkieton,9  and  she's 
going  to  pile  on  all  her  own  and  her  mother's  too.  So  she 
comes  to  me :  '  Oh,  papa,  wouldn't  it  be  nice  if  we  could  have 
a  real  tiara?  We've  got  to  fix  ma's  necklace  to  look  like 
one,  but  I  think  those  little  coronets  they  have  at  Tiffany's 
are  just  too  utterly  sweet.'  That's  the  way  the  girls  and 
boys  talk  nowadays,  Doctor,  '  too  utterly  too,'  '  too  intensely 
all  but,' — can't  understand  half  the  gibberish  they're  saying ; 
but  I  grasped  the  meaning  of  that!  '  Why,  good  heavens, 
my  child,'  I  said,  6  do  you  think  I'm  made  of  money  ?  There's 
your  mother's  necklace  cost  me  thirty-five  hundred — the 
papers  made  it  five  thousand,  but  you  know,  Doctor,  they  al- 
ways blow  around  and  talk  big — not  so  very  long  ago,  not 
more  than  two  years,  I  believe,  and  now  you  want  a  tiara.' 
'  Well,  papa,  you  know  you  said  ma's  necklace  was  just 
bought  out  of  that  rise  in  Phosphate,  and  it  was  like  getting 
it  for  nothing,  and  you'd  never  miss  the  money  because  the 
dividends  were  so  much  more  than  you  had  expected.  Won't 
something  else  take  a  rise? '  And  in  fact,  Doctor,"  con- 
tinued Colonel  Pallinder,  pulling  at  his  goatee  with  a  ruefully 
comic  grin,  "  she  rather  had  me  there.  It  was  just  as  she 
said,  the  stock  having  gone  up  beyond  my  wildest  expecta- 
tions. I  realised  treble  what  I'd  been  looking  for,  and  I  al- 
ways like  to  make  my  wife  some  little  gift  when  anything  of 


THE    TENANTS  199 

that  sort  happens.  But  a  tiara  at  Tiffany's !  I  couldn't 
quite  go  that.  Must  you  be  going?  Well,  good-bye.  When 
you  feel  like  looking  into  Phosphate  a  little  farther,  drop  in. 
I've  some  figures  I  think  would  interest  you." 

Doctor  Vardaman  took  his  way  from  the  Turner  Build- 
ing, walking  fast  in  a  brown  study ;  such  was  his  preoccupa- 
tion that  twenty  steps  from  the  entrance  he  collided  with 
a  young  man  carrying  a  green  cloth  bag,  weighted  with 
books  or  papers,  heading  for  the  stairs. 

"  Hello,  Doctor !  "  he  began  to  apologise.  "  I  didn't  know 
it  was  you.  Why,  it's  great  to  see  you  down  here.  Come  up 
and  take  a  look  at  my  office." 

"  I've  just  been  up  in  the  building,  Harvey,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  recognising  him.  "  I  ought  to  be  home  sitting 
down  to  my  luncheon  this  minute.  Huddesley  would  dis- 
charge me  if  I  were  not  on  time.  I  went  up  to  see  Ogden 
about  those  signboards  on  Richmond  Avenue."  He  paused 
and  then  some  indefinable  feeling  prompted  him  to  add : 
"Fine  office  Colonel  Pallinder  has,  hasn't  he?  The  building 
is  certainly  very  complete  and  well-equipped ;  you  ought  to 
have  seen  the  two-story  frame  shanty  where  I  first  hung 
out  my  shingle.  It  was  over  a  grocery  with  an  outside  stairs 
leading  up  to  it." 

Young  Smith  eyed  him  with  a  certain  apprehension  in  his 
keen  boyish  face.  "  Oh,  yes,  the  Turner  Building  is  said 
to  be  one  of  the  finest  in  the  West ;  but  I  understand  they  are 
going  to  put  up  some  in  Chicago  that'll  beat  us  all  hollow. 
Pallinder's  a  great  friend  of  yours,  isn't  he,  Doctor?" 

"  We  are  neighbours,  you  know,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman, 
diplomatically,  and  smiled,  meeting  the  other's  eye.  "  Don't 
be  uneasy.     I  haven't  been  investing." 


200  THE    TENANTS 

"  Why — I — I "  Harvey  stammered,  crimsoning  In  his 

confusion,  yet  plainly  a  little  relieved.  "I  just  couldn't 
help  wondering  if  you  had,  you  know.  The  Colonel's  a 
great  old  blatherskite,  isn't  he?  Of  course,  I  don't  mean — 
that  is,  I  mean " 

"  Harvey,  Harvey,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman,  wagging  his 
head  solemnly,  "I'm  afraid  that's  not  the  way  counsel  for 
the  defence  should  open  his  remarks." 

"  Well,  it's  so,  you  know,  anyhow,"  said  the  young  fellow 
ingenuously.  "Jim  sees  a  lot  of  them;  he  goes  out  there 
all  the  time.  He's  in  that  shindy  they're  going  to  give  on 
the  twelfth.  Say,  have  you  heard  that  about  Gwynne 
Peters?" 

"  No,  what  was  it — Oh,  here's  my  car — never  mind,  Har- 
vey.    I  don't  need  any  help." 


CHAPTER    FIFTEEN 

FATE,  who,  as  Doctor  Vardaman's  favourite  clas- 
sic assures  us,  calls,  equal-footed,  upon  carpen- 
ters and  kings,  must  surely  have  laid  a  directing 
hand  on  the  old  gentleman's  shoulder  that  morn- 
ing; not  yet  were  his  adventures  over,  even  when  he  reached 
his  own  door.  The  Lexington  and  Amherst  Street  car 
crawled  with  him  laboriously  as  far  as  the  corner  of  Am- 
herst and  Richmond,  where  he  must  disembark  and  trudge 
the  remaining  five  blocks  of  board  sidewalk  to  number  201. 
The  trolley  whisks  you  out  there  in  five  minutes  now.  Not 
long  ago  I  saw  in  somebody's  back  yard,  a  back  yard  of  the 
proletariat,  next  door  to  a  tenement,  one  of  these  dilapidated 
old  horse-cars,  pygmy  ancestor  of  a  race  of  giants,  thrown 
aside,  weather-worn,  ancient  as  the  palaeolithic  period,  serving 
as  a  play-house  for  the  proletarian  youngsters.  The  win- 
dows were  all  out  of  it,  even  the  purple  glass  lights  overhead ; 
but  you  might  dimly  discern  the  legend :  "  No.  5.  Lexington 
and  Amherst.  No.  5."  along  its  battered  sides.  The  thing 
was  as  romantic  as  a  derelict  galleon ;  sentimental  melancholy 
possessed  me  as  I  looked  at  it ;  all  my  youth  rode  in  that  de- 
crepit chariot,  if  not  with  comfort,  at  least  with  tolerable 
satisfaction.  Will  the  rising  generation  treasure  so  pic- 
turesque a  memory?  I  think  not.  In  cold  weather  there 
was  a  layer  of  straw,  doubtful-tinted,  breathing  strange 
odours,  in  the  bottom  of  it,  thoughtfully  provided  by  the 
street-car  company  to  protect  its  patrons'  feet.  It  was  lit 
by  two  oil  lamps,  in  two  niches,  fortified  by  wire-work,  one 

201 


202  THE    TENANTS 

at  cither  end  of  the  car.  These  vehicles  were  banded  about 
the  body  with  a  wide  stripe  in  various  colours  to  distinguish 
the  various  lines,  an  amazingly  ingenious  idea  if  people  had 
only  been  able  to  see  after  dark,  like  cats ;  and,  as  the  spec- 
trum had  been  exhausted  by  the  time  the  builders  got  around 
to  the  Lexington  and  Amherst  line,  they  designated  these 
cars,  in  a  creditable  burst  of  originality,  by  a  sash  of  black- 
and-red  squares,  like  the  Rob  Roy  plaid.  Immediately  arose 
some  genius  with  an  equally  fertile  invention  and  baptised 
them  "  the  checker-board  cars,"  a  title  which  they  wore  to 
the  end.  There  was  one  very  steep  hill  at  the  foot  whereof 
it  was  the  custom  to  hitch  on  an  extra  team  of  mules ;  I  know 
of  no  more  gallant  spectacle  than  that  furnished  by  a  quad- 
riga of  mules  nobly  breasting  Wade  Street  hill,  with  a 
checker-board  car  plunging  in  the  rear.  When  it  got  off 
the  track,  as  not  infrequently  happened,  all  the  male  passen- 
gers got  out  and  helped  push  it  back.  We  were  firmly  per- 
suaded that  this  was  rapid  transit!  Yet  spare  your  merri- 
ment, youth  of  to-day;  impartial  Fate  is  waiting  for  your 
admired  institutions,  too,  your  Twentieth  Century  Flyers, 
your  automobiles,  your  seven-league-boots.  In  twenty-five 
years,  how  will  your  sons  and  daughters  deride  you ;  with 
what  longing,  with  what  amused  tenderness,  will  you  not  look 
back  to  these  kind,  simple  days ! 

Doctor  Vardaman,  then,  with  Destiny  stalking  viewless 
at  his  side,  swung  off  the  checker-board  car,  and  began  the 
homeward  walk.  Some  way  ahead  of  him  he  saw  a  figure 
diminished  by  distance,  plodding  through  his  yard  toward 
the  kitchen  door;  and  as  he  drew  nearer,  two  more  figures 
emerged  from  his  front  porch.  The  doctor  recognised  Bob 
Carson,  and  in  the  over-tall,  lankily-graceful  young  woman. 


THE    TENANTS  203 

Mazie  Pallinder,  in  an  extremely  modish  tan-coloured  cloth 
coat  with  dark  brown  plush  collar  and  pocket  flaps.  Mazie's 
sleeves  were  about  as  tight  as  Bob's  trousers — that  is  to  say, 
they  were  as  tight  as  human  skill  could  make  them,  or  human 
arms  and  legs  endure.     Thus  were  we  clad  in  the  eighties. 

"  Oh,  hello,  Doctor,"  said  Bob,  dropping  Mazie's  hand — I 
suppose  he  had  been  fastening  her  glove — and  addressing  the 
old  gentleman  with  unusual  vivacity  and  a  notable  increase 
of  colour.  "  Ah — we — we've  just  been  getting  Huddesley 
to  hear  us  our  parts — in  '  Mrs.  Tankerville,'  you  know." 

"  I  hope  you  have  .mastered  yours,"  said  Doctor  Varda- 
man,  without  a  smile.  Bob's  part,  as  he  and  everyone  else 
knew,  might  have  been  omitted  altogether  without  materially 
damaging  the  performance ;  he  was  a  footman  in  "  Mrs. 
Tankerville,"  and  his  lines  were  hardly  more  than  "  Yes,  sir," 
and  "  No,  sir,"  stated  at  the  proper  intervals.  He  got  red- 
der than  ever  under  the  doctor's  grave  survey,  and  affected  to 
be  busy  knocking  invisible  mud  from  his  boot  heel  with  his 
cane  as  they  stood  by  the  gate.  Mazie  did  not  blush — for 
the  best  of  reasons.  Her  face  was  too  carefully  arranged  to 
permit  of  it.  And,  besides,  what  was  there  to  blush  about? 
Bob  changed  colour  almost  whenever  she  looked  at  him;  but 
then  Bob  was  a  quiet  and  rather  shy  youth. 

"  Huddesley's  simply  fine!  "  she  said  with  enthusiasm.  "  I 
asked  him  how  he  came  to  know  so  much  about  the  stage, 
and  he  says  he  was  dresser  for  an  actor  once  when  he  was 
right  young,  and  used  to  be  behind  the  scenes  a  lot.  Come 
home  and  take  lunch  with  us,  won't  you,  Doctor?  " 

"I  can't  very  well  to-day.  I  was  just  about  to  ask  you 
to  stay  here.  Huddesley,  you  can  get  us  up  something,  can't 
you?" 


204  THE    TENANTS 

"  Bit  of  'am  and  a  glass  of  porter,  sir,"  said  Huddesley 
deferentially,  holding  the  door  open.  "  Beg  parding,  Doc- 
tor Vardaman,  sir,  but  Mrs.  Maginnis  is  'ere  with  your 
wash." 

"  I  guess  we'd  better  not  stop  so  long's  I've  got  so  much 
company  in  the  house,"  said  Mazie.  "  Good-bye,  Doctor ; 
you'll  come  up  this  evening,  anyway?  "  And  as  they  walked 
away,  the  doctor  heard  Bob  say,  "  Isn't  Huddesley  immense, 
though?  'Bit  of  'am  and  a  glass  of  porter.'  Sounds  just 
like  Dickens,  don't  it?" 

The  doctor,  still  squired  by  unseen  Fortune,  went  upstairs 
to  his  bedroom — and  there,  it  may  be  presumed,  the  goddess 
left  him,  having  executed  her  appointed  task.  Mrs.  Ma- 
ginnis awaited  him,  and  Huddesley  was  already  laying  the 
doctor's  shirts  out  of  the  basket.  The  laundress  generally 
performed  this  rite  herself,  but  to-day  she  stood  watching 
the  man  with  an  oddly  flustered  manner,  twisting  the  fringes 
of  her  old  shawl  between  her  fingers.  Her  bonnet,  that 
feathered  and  beribboned  structure  indigenous  to  washer- 
women, had  worked  askew  a  little;  her  face,  with  its  prema- 
ture wrinkles,  its  sunken  mouth,  was  flushed  with  exercise  or 
excitement.  The  doctor,  observant  as  all  physicians  from 
lifelong  habit,  looked  at  her  in  some  surprise.  It  crossed  his 
mind  that  at  some  prehistorically  distant  time,  when  Mrs. 
Maginnis  was  a  fresh  barefoot  girl,  running  the  green  swards 
of  Connemara,  she  might  have  been  pretty;  her  Irish  blue 
eyes,  faded  with  years,  with  toil,  with  sickness,  with  care,  were 
quite  bright  to-day.  A  kind  of  tremulous  happiness,  an  anx- 
ious joy,  irradiated  her;  she  was  like  a  child  to  whom  one 
should  have  given  a  new  toy,  scarcely  daring  to  be  glad  yet 
in  its  possession. 


THE    TENANTS  205 

"  Got  change  for  a  fifty-dollar  bill,  Mrs.  Maginnis?  "  said 
the  old  gentleman  jocosely. 

"  Yez  will  have  yer  joke,  now,  won't  ye,  Docthor?  "  she  re- 
torted with  gaiety,  and  tossed  her  head  with  the  upstanding 
plumes  in  a  roguish  manner.  "  Niver  moind.  Some  day  I'll 
change  ut  for  yez  aisy  enough.  'Taint  much  longer  I'll  be 
comin'  'round  for  me  dollar  and  a  half,  at  all,  at  all." 

"  Has  Tim  got  well?  Is  he  going  back  to  work?  "  asked 
the  doctor,  beginning  to  fish  for  the  required  sum  amongst 
the  loose  silver  in  his  pockets.  He  spoke  of  her  hus- 
band. 

Tim  was  what  Doctor  Vardaman  called  a  "  non-com- 
batant." To  say  that  he  was  a  washerwoman's  husband 
describes  him.  Who  ever  heard  of  a  washerwoman  with  a 
husband  that  was  worth  anything? 

"  Naw,  it  ain't  that,  Docthor,"  said  Mrs.  Maginnis,  looking 
momentarily  a  little  dashed.  "  Naw,  Tim's  awful  bad  with 
rheumatics  this  spring.  But  it's  meself  that's  afther  ma- 
akin  me  fortune  in — in  stocks.  Yez  didn't  see  me  in  the  Turr- 
ner  Buildin'  th'  marrnin'  ?  " 

Doctor  Vardaman's  hand  paused,  rigidly  suspended  over 
the  money  spread  on  his  palm.  "What — what's  that  you 
say  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  I  was  goin'  to  ask  yez  to  spake  a  wurrd  to  me  characther 
wid  Misther — I  mane  Meejor  Pallinder,"  went  on  Mrs.  Ma- 
ginnis, happily  unconscious.  "  But  he  seemed  to  be  in  a 
hurry,  an'  says  I  to  meself,  s  Betther  not  worry  him,  Nora 
Maginnis.  Th'  Meejor's  thrustin'  yez  anyhow,  an'  ye're 
thrustin'  him  an'  iverythin's  fair  an'  square  an'  aboveboord. 
'Taint  as  if  yez  were  a  gurrl  goin'  to  ta-ake  a  new  pla-ace, 
ye  goose,'  says  I.     So  I  just  held  me  tongue,  an'  walked  off. 


206  THE    TENANTS 

It's  a  grand  glntleman  th'  Meejor  is  intoirely,"  she  finished 
enthusiastically. 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  through  a  mist.  "  What  have 
you  been  doing?  "  he  said  at  last,  striving  to  speak  in  his 
natural  voice.  He  might  have  spared  the  trouble ;  Mrs.  Ma- 
ginnis  was  only  too  proud  and  pleased  at  his  interest,  at  her 
own  importance. 

"  Ah,  thin,  I've  been  investin' — investin'  in  stocks — or  is  it 
shares,  I  dinnaw?  "  she  said  eagerly,  lifted  her  skirt,  and 
drew  out  a  paper,  carefully  hoarded,  from  a  pocket  in  her 
petticoat.  She  held  it  toward  him.  "  I  got  a  letther  about 
thim  in  th'  mail,  a  printed  letther,  an'  ut  says :  s  Dear  Ma- 
dame, we  want  to  call  your  attintion '  like  that  ut  begun, 

Docthor.  I  can't  raymimber  th'  rest  of  ut,  but  yez  ought  to 
hear  me  little  Danny,  he's  got  ut  by  hearrt.  Anyway,  I  was 
to  call  on  or  com-communicate  with  William  Pallinder,  Turr- 
ner  Buildin',  like  what  ut  says  there.  They  was  iver  so  many 
on  our  sthreet  got  th'  sa-ame,  th'  Hogans  'crost  th'  way,  an' 
th'  Schwartzes  nixt  dure  but  wan,  but  they  ain't  anybody 
wint  but  me,  an'  th'  Meejor  says  it's  a  grreat  pity,  an'  they'll 
all  git  left,  for  they  won't  be  anny  more  shares  or  stocks, 
whichever  ut  is,  sold  so  low.  An'  it's  just  loike  pickin'  money 
off  of  trees,  he  says,  yez  git  tin  for  wan.  That's  four  thou- 
san'  I'll  git,  Docthor,  for  it's  four  hundred  I'm  ta-akin  out  o' 
th'  Buildin'  an'  Loan,  where  we  been  puttin  ut  for  th'  last  tin 
years — an'  weary  wurrk  ut  is,  too,  savin'  so  slow,  nothin' 
loike  this,  where  yez  just  put  in  yer  money,  an'  set  back  an' 
twiddle  yer  thumbs !  It  kapes  goin'  higher  ivery  breath  yez 
draw  purty  near,  th'  Meejor  says.  An'  whin  I  give  him  th' 
money,  he  wrote  off  a  grand  pa-aper,  a  receipt,  he  called  ut, 
an'  says  he :  *  I  congrat'late  yez,  Mrs.  Maginnis,'  says  he. 


THE    TENANTS  207 

It's  th'  smarrt  woman  yez  arre,  an'  plucky,  too,'  says  he. 
1  Nothin'  venture,  nothin'  have,  yez  may  have  hearrd  th' 
sayin','  he  says.  '  That's  the  way  I  begun  meself ,'  says  he. 
'  I  had  just  a  little,  'twasn't  be  half  so  much  as  yours,  an'  I 
put  ut  in,  an'  ut  kep'  a-goin'  up  an'  a-goin'  up,  an'  there  I 
was,  like  a  big  fool ' — that's  what  lie  said,  Docthor — 4  shiv- 
erin'  an'  shakin'  an'  layin'  awake  noights,  for  fear  somethin' 
would  happen  to  ut,  an'  whin  ut  doubled,  I  fair  et  up  th'  road 
gittin  to  th'  office  to  sell  out — an'  th'  very  nixt  day  it  was 
thribbled  already !  But  I'm  all  over  thim  days  now,'  he  says, 
laughin'  that  way  he  has,  '  an'  yez  can  see  wid  wan  eye  shut 
how  I  live,  Mrs.  Maginnis.  Well,  all  that  come  from  that 
little  lump  o'  money  not  be  half  so  big  as  yours,  as  I  was  just 
afther  tellin'  yez,  an'  that's  where  yez'll  be,  too,  inside  of  a 
year,  if  yez'll  be  guided  by  me,'  he  says.  Indade,  it's  th' 
foine  gintleman  he  is,  an'  th'  koind  man,  to  be  doin'  all  that 
for  th'  loikes  of  me,  an'  so  I  tould  him." 

For  the  second  time  that  day  Doctor  Vardaman  gazed  si- 
lently at  "El  Paso  &  Rio  Grande,"  "$172,000,000.00  in 
dividends,"  until  the  characters  swam  before  his  eyes. 

"  At  least  you'll  want  your  dollar  and  a  half  in  the  mean- 
time, Mrs.  Maginnis,"  he  said  finally  with  an  effort,  and 
counted  the  money  into  her  hand.  She  had  on  a  pair  of  black 
worsted  gloves,  the  fingers  too  long  for  her  own,  crooked, 
hardened  and  disfigured  with  work.  She  took  the  coins  clum- 
sily, and  some  of  them  dropped  and  rolled  about  the  floor. 

"  Troth,  what'll  I  do  whin  I'm  a  la-ady,  settin'  in  me  ker- 
ridge,  wid  kid  gloves  on,  I  wondher,"  she  said  with  a  laugh. 
"  I'm  that  awkward  wid  these,  I'd  betther  be  learnin',  I  think. 
I'm  goin'  to  have  Maggie  ta-ake  pianny  lessons,  Docthor,  an' 
I'm  goin'  to  git  a  pair  of  va-ases  for  th'  parlour  mantel- 


208  THE    TENANTS 

piece,  an'  a  wheel  chair  for  Tim.  That's  what  I'm  goin'  to 
do  whin  th'  firrst  o'  th'  money  comes  in.  I  made  up  me 
moind  to  that  as  I  was  walkin'  along  wid  yer  wash  th' 
marrnin',  an'  thin  all  to  oncet,  I  says  to  meself.  6  An'  what'll 
th'  docthor  be  doin'  for  somewan  to  clear-starch  his  shirrts 
th'  way  he  loikes?  An'  to  do  up  thim  white  lawn  cravats 
that's  all  cut  on  th'  bias,  an'  sthretches  somethin'  awful — 
thim  stocks  yez  call  'em,  Docthor.  Faith,  there's  stocks  an' 
stocks,  think  o'  that,  now?"  She  laughed  a  little,  hysteri- 
cally, gulping  at  her  own  j  oke.  "  Yez  wouldn't  belave  ut, 
Docthor,  for  all  I  was  so  happy,  I  cud  ha'  set  right  down  an' 
cried  to  think  that  somewan  might  git  hould  o'  thim,  some 
naygur,  mebbe,  that  'ud  ruin  'em !  "  The  tears  came  into  her 
faded  blue  eyes.  "  It's  th'  good  man  yez  arre,  Docthor  Varr- 
daman,  an'  it's  koind  yez  have  been  to  me  all  these  harrd 
years,  an'  I'll  niver  forgit  ut.  Whin  I'm  settin'  in  me  par- 
lour, wid  th'  pitchers  an'  th'  Rogers  Group  like  I  mane  to 
have  ut,  rockin'  in  me  chair,  an'  listenin'  to  Maggie  play,  I'll 
be  thinkin'  of  yez  often  an'  often,  Docthor,  an'  of  th'  ould 
days,  whin  1  was  sthrugglin'  along  at  th'  tub  an'  yez  helped 


me." 


Doctor  Vardaman  mechanically  twisted  his  features  into 
a  smile.  "  I  wish  you  luck  with  all  my  heart,  Mrs.  Magin- 
nis,"  was  all  he  could  say ;  but  the  Irishwoman  was  too  emo- 
tionally wrought  up  to  heed  the  strangeness  of  his  manner. 
Her  sky  was  radiant  with  dreams. 

"  Sure,  I  kin  have  thim  masses  said  for  me  mother — rest 
her  sowl ! "  she  said,  crossing  herself  fervently ;  and  the  next 
moment,  in  gleeful  anticipation :  "  An'  buy  me  a  black  silk, 
Docthor,  a  black  silk  dhress,  me  that  hasn't  had  a  new  rag 
to  me  back  for  eight  years ! " 


THE    TENANTS  209 

She  went ;  and  Doctor  Vardaman  sat  down  before  his  table. 
He  took  out  the  colonel's  fifty-dollar  bill— the  colonel's !     It 
was  Mrs.   Maginnis',  like   all  the  rest  of  the  bills  in  that 
handsome  Russia-leather  case!     The  doctor  was  as  sure  of 
it  as  if  it  had  been  sworn  to  in  his  presence.     He  stared  at 
it  miserably.     Of  course,  he  told  himself,  he  had  known  all 
along:  that  Pallinder  was  a  humbug,  had  known  in  a  sort  of 
way  that  he  was  a  scamp.     But  the  truth  is,  you  and  I, 
even  the  most  experienced,  even  the  wisest  and  worldliest  and 
most  wary  of  us,  knows  very  little  about  scamps.    The  doctor 
had  lived  his  seventy  years  with  such  vicissitudes  as  fall  to 
the  lot  of  the   ruck  of  mankind,   and  had   encountered  no 
greater  rascality  than  that  of  some  patient  who  ignored  a  bill 
or  refused  to  pay  it — an  offence  which  he  himself  was  the 
first  to  excuse  or  condone.     By  nature  a  humane  and  sym- 
pathetic man,  he  had  learned  in  his  profession  a  large  charity, 
a  habit  of  making  allowances  which  he  now  denounced  sav- 
agely for  a  contemptible  shirking  of  responsibilities.     Lais- 
sez  faire,  indeed !     And  one-half  the  world,  not  knowing  how 
the  other  half  lives,  need  not  care!     Yes,  Pallinder  was  a 
scamp;  but  Doctor  Vardaman  found,  with  a  wretched  sur- 
prise, that  he  had  had  no  real  comprehension  of  what  the  word 
meant — the  thing  it  denoted.     This  was   its  meaning,  this 
shabby  trickery,  this  cheap  deceit ;  the  discovery  came  upon 
him  like  a  blow.     There  is  an  extraordinary  bitterness  to  any 
generous  mind  in  beholding  the  uncovered  shame  of  a  friend ; 
we  hate  to  see  the  feet  of  clay;  the  pain  is  two-edged  and 
strikes  us  either  way  with  the  sense  of  his  unworthiness,  of 
our  own  folly.     The  doctor  had  liked  Pallinder;  liked  him 
still — liked  him  and  despised  him.     He  sat  wondering  at  his 
own  weakness.     "  If  it  had  been  me,"  thought  the  old  gentle- 


210  THE    TENANTS 

man,  "  if  it  had  been  me  that  he  had  cheated,  fleeced,  bam- 
boozled in  this  way,  or  anyone  of  my  class,  I  could  almost 
say  the  game  was  fair  and  have  my  laugh  at  the  dupe ;  it's 
our  business  to  know  better.  But  that  poor  old  woman,  that 
poor,  ignorant,  faithful,  trusting  creature,  that  honest,  sim- 
ple drudge !  "  He  thought  of  her  tired,  work-worn  hands  in 
those  pitiful  gloves  with  a  throb  of  pain  and  unreasoning 
self-reproach.  Colonel  Pallinder's  hands  were  large,  white, 
and  very  well-kept ;  a  seal  ring  in  pretty  taste,  simplex  mun- 
dit'iis,  adorned  his  little  finger,  the  only  piece  of  jewelry  he 
wore.  It  was  paid  for,  if  at  all,  the  doctor  reflected  grimly, 
out  of  the  pocket  of  some  other  Mrs.  Maginnis.  The  flavour 
of  the  colonel's  cigar  was  yet  on  his  lips ;  what  washerwoman, 
what  widow,  what  patient,  laborious  wage-earner's  little  sav- 
ings had  paid  for  that?  He  got  up  and  walked  the  floor 
restlessly.  There  was  a  kind  of  irony  in  the  thought  that  he, 
John  Vardaman,  must  suffer  this  travail  of  spirit,  while  the 
guilty  one  himself  pursued  his  way  unmoved,  tranquil,  eating 
and  sleeping  in  triumphant  ease.  "  After  all,"  said  the  doc- 
tor inwardly,  "am  I  my  brother's  keeper?  No.  But  I  have 
sat  at  Pallinder's  table,  smoked  with  him,  drunk  with  him, 
laughed  with  him,  sanctioned  and  encouraged  him.  All  the 
while  I  knew  he  was  a  rogue ;  I  did  it  open-eyed ;  I  shared  the 
spoil — it's  late,  late  in  the  day,  Jack  Vardaman,  for  you  to 
cry  Fie  on  the  thief!  Dozens  of  others  are  daily  doing  the 
same  thing;  why  not?  The  Pallinders  amuse  them.  Of  what 
stuff  are  we  all  made  ?  "  His  glance  fell  on  the  bill  again ; 
he  picked  it  up  and  smoothed  it  out  mechanically,  wondering 
what  had  prompted  Pallinder  to  pay  him  out  of  all  the  people 
he  owed.  It  was  certainly  not  from  any  warm  friendship,  for 
Colonel  Pallinder  liked  everybody  equally  well ;  his  cordiality, 


THE    TENANTS  211 

his  generosity  emulated  the  very  sunshine  in  their  wide  dif- 
fusion. If  he  stole  meanly,  he  gave  away  magnificently — 
after  his  own  desires  were  indulged.  He  was  quite  capable  of 
picking  Mrs.  Maginnis'  pocket  one  day,  and  relieving  her 
distress  with  coal  and  warm  blankets  the  next ;  and  it  is  more 
than  likely  that  he  would  have  paid  the  first  comer,  whether 
Doctor  Vardaman  or  somebody  else,  if  the  matter  had  oc- 
curred to  him,  and  if  the  sum  were  not  inconveniently  large. 

Huddesley,  coming  in  with  the  tray  of  luncheon,  was  aston- 
ished at  the  doctor's  haggard  look;  he  moved  about  noise- 
lessly, disposing  the  dishes  to  the  old  gentleman's  liking,  and 
once  or  twice  sending  a  sharp  glance  into  his  face  unobserved. 

"  Shall  you  be  going  up  to  Mrs.  Pallinder's  to  dinner  this 
evening,  sir?"  he  asked  at  length  respectfully.  "Miss  Pal- 
linder  said  something  about  you " 

"  No,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman  sternly.  "  No.  I  shan't  be 
going  there  again." 

Huddesley  looked  at  him  with  singular  blankness.  "  Beg 
parding,  sir,  did  you  say ?  " 

"  I  said  I  was  not  going  there  again,"  repeated  the  doctor 
with  deliberation.  He  thought  a  moment.  "  I'll  write  a  note 
and  ask  the  younger  gentleman  here  to  dinner  next  Friday 
night,  Huddesley,  and  you  can  take  it  up  to  Mrs.  Pallinder. 
It's  the  night  of  their  party ;  we  shan't  see  much  more  of 
them,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman,  checking  a  sigh.  He  would  not 
acknowledge  to  himself  how  much  he  should  miss  the  careless 
jollity,  the  youthful  fun  and  freedom  of  the  last  two  years. 
Huddesley  was  leaving  the  room  when  the  doctor  abruptly 
called  him  back :  "  Huddesley  !  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I — I  seldom  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  my  servants,  Hud- 


212  THE    TENANTS 

desley,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman,  hesitating.  "  I  realise  that  I 
nave  no  more  right  to  meddle  with  your  business  than  you 
with  mine.  But  I — I  should  like  to  ask  you  if  you  have  ever 
had  any  business  dealings  with  Colonel  Pallinder?  If  you — 
you  have  ever  bought  any  of  his  mining  or  c  Phosphate  * 
stocks,  in  short?  " 

Huddesley,  after  a  moment's  puzzled  silence,  so  far  forgot 
his  usually  impeccable  manners  as  to  utter  a  queer  unpleasant 
sound  between  a  sneer  and  a  laugh.  "  Me?  "  said  he.  "  Not 
much.  Think  I'd  be  roped  in  by  any  such  con  game  as  that? 
I  guess  not — bet  your  bottom  dollar !  "  He  caught  the  doc- 
tor's startled  look,  and  faltered.  "  Hi — Hi  'ope  you'll  hex- 
cuse  me,  sir,"  he  said  in  genuine  and  very  alarmed  confusion ; 
"  Hi  'ear  so  much  rough  talk  sometimes,  Hi  can't  'elp  picking 
it  hup " 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Doctor  Vardaman  kindly.  "  I  thought 
you  were  too  shrewd  a  man  and  had  seen  too  much  of  the 
world  to — to  be  taken  in,  as  you  say.  I  should  be  sorry  to 
think  of  your  losing  money — especially  through  over-con- 
fidence in — in  any  friend  of  mine.  I  wouldn't  like  to  feel  that 
you  were  influenced  in  that  way,"  the  old  gentleman  concluded 
rather  sadly. 

The  servant  eyed  his  downcast  face  with  an  unfathomable 
expression.  He  fumbled  with  the  door-knob ;  then  he  cleared 
his  throat  and  spoke  with  something  of  an  effort.  "  You're 
mighty  kind  to  me,  Doctor  Vardaman,"  he  said  huskily. 
"  You  treat  me  mighty  white — and  I  won't  forget  it." 

It  was  the  second  time  within  the  hour  that  Doctor  Varda- 
man had  received  this  agreeable  assurance.  "  '  Mighty 
white,'  "  he  quoted  to  himself,  almost  smiling,  as  the  door 
closed.     "  I'm  afraid  Huddesley  is  becoming  Americanised." 


CHAPTER    SIXTEEN 

jA  MONG  the  forgotten  fashions  of  the  years  from 
/  m  eighteen-eighty  to  eighty-five  was  that  of  giving 
/ '  ^k  our  parties,  evening  or  afternoon,  for  young 
^  -^-  people  or  old,  of  whatever  kind,  in  short,  in  our 
own  homes ;  the  easy  hospitality  of  clubs  or  fashionable  hotels 
was  not  yet  known.  Houses  with  double-parlours  and  a  din- 
ing-room back  were  considered  ideal  for  any  sort  of  entertain- 
ment; and,  of  course,  such  an  architectural  triumph  as  the 
old  Gwynne  house  with  that  splendid  ballroom  on  the  third 
floor,  was  hors  concours.  There  was  not  another  home  in 
town  to  compare  with  it.  Mrs.  Pallinder  could  entertain 
without  disturbing  a  single  piece  of  the  peacock-blue  and  old- 
gold  furniture;  she  meant,  however,  to  have  the  whole  place 
floor-clothed  the  night  of  the  twelfth.  "  I  can't  risk  my 
Moquette  carpets  with  a  mob  of  young  people  tearing  around 
all  over  the  house,  you  know,  my  dear,"  she  said  with  a  smil- 
ing pretence  of  severity;  and  her  guests,  eying  the  rich 
scrolls  and  garlands  underfoot,  gravely  acquiesced.  Every- 
where else,  all  the  movables,  except  the  bookcases  and  piano, 
were  marshalled  upstairs  or  out  on  the  back  porch.  The  little 
sofas  in  our  parlours  generally  went  into  retirement  under 
the  stairs  at  the  rear  end  of  the  hall.  In  the  afternoons  we 
were  just  beginning  to  have  progressive  euchres,  and  what 
we  actually  called  "  high  teas."  It  is  doubtless  impossible  for 
the  mind  of  to-day  to  conceive  of  a  society  so  devoid  of 
education  and  good  taste  as  to  call  any  species  of  entertain- 
ment a  "  high  tea,"  but  such  is  the  appalling  fact.  You  may 

213 


214  THE    TENANTS 

pick  up  a  Journal  or  Evening  Despatch  of  that  date,  and 
read  not  one  but  many  notices  such  as  this : 

"  At  Mrs.  Henderson  P.  Gates'  high  tea  on  Monday  in  the  fashionable 
crush  were   observed: 

Mrs.  Colonel  Pallinder  in  a  toilet  of  ottoman  silk  and  silk  plush  in 
two  shades  of  electric  blue,  with  garniture  of  chenille  and  pearl  fringes, 
and  a  capote  of  feathers  en  suite. 

Miss  Pallinder  in  wine-coloured  surah  with  sleeves  and  draperies  of 
spotted  silk  grenadine. 

Miss  Ponsonby-Baxter  wore  a  redingote  of  crushed-strawberry  pekin 
opening  over  a  brocaded  front  in  shades  of  the  same,  with  panels 
of " 

No,  I  have  not  the  heart  to  go  on  with  the  gaudy  details 
of  Muriel's  panels  and  passementerie.  But  I  remember  that 
dress  well,  and,  believe  it  or  not,  she  looked  as  nobly  and 
placidly  beautiful  in  the  crushed-strawberry  redingote  as 
had  she  been  draped  like  the  Winged  Victory.  Mrs.  Gates 
continued  her  party  with  a  dance  that  same  evening.  "  The 
house  was  all  torn  up  anyhow,"  Lily  Gates  told  us ;  "  and 
mamma  thought  she  might  just  as  well  go  ahead." 

Muriel  and  J.  B.,  or  Mr.  Taylor,  as  she  decorously  called 
him, — he  was  only  J.  B.  to  college  mates  or  others  who  knew 
him  well, — were  sitting  out  a  waltz  on  the  top  step  of  the 
Henderson  P.  Gates'  stairs.  It  was  a  long  flight,  turning 
sharply  at  a  little  landing  to  reach  the  upper  hall;  and  the 
musicians  penned  in  the  alcove  behind  the  steps  on  the  first 
floor  were  discoursing  "  A  Medley  of  Popular  Airs,"  with 
admirable  command  of  rhythm  and  expression.  "  Wh-i-te 
Wings,"  "  Swee-ee-t  Y\-o-lets"  the  sounds  travelled  up  to 
them  as  through  a  chimney.  There  was  a  smothering  scent 
of  lilacs — the  house  had  been  decorated  with  them — and  in 
pauses  of  the  noise    one  could  hear  the  window-panes  shud- 


THE    TENANTS  215 

dering  to  the  assaults  of  successive  blasts  of  wind  and  rain 
commingled.  The  spring  was  early  that  year.  A  discreet 
twilight  on  the  top  step  held  out  opportunities  for  flirtation 
which  Mazie  Pallinder  never  would  have  neglected  in  the 
world ;  but  neither  J.  B.  nor  Muriel  had  any  notion  of  taking 
advantage  of  them.  The  girl  was  absorbed  in  a  certain 
dilemma;  her  even  delicate  brows  were  slightly  drawn  as  she 
studied  the  pattern  of  her  fan,  and  wondered  how  she  could 
lead,  draw,  drag  the  conversation  around  to  the  desired  point. 
And  J.  B.  was  thinking  that  "  Pretty  Pond-lilies  "  was  a 
good  waltz,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  so  hot,  and  Miss  Baxter 
something  of  an  armful  to  pull  around — and  she  couldn't 
reverse — he  would  have  suggested  a  turn.  He  looked  at  her. 
It  would  be  desirable,  I  suppose,  to  record  minutely  what 
Muriel  wore  that  night ;  I  refer  you  to  the  columns  of  the 
Journal;  but  does  anyone  remember  that  full  dress  in  the 
eighties — in  common  with  dress  for  all  occasions — compre- 
hended those  two  aids  to  beauty,  "bangs,"  and  "bustles"? 
Muriel's  pretty  copper-brown  hair  was  arranged  in  the  fringe 
down  to  the  eyebrows,  the  knot  low  on  the  nape  of  her  neck, 
to  which  a  famous  stage-beauty  had  lately  given  her  name ; 
and  I  am  afraid  her  black  lace  skirts  were  crinolined  in  the 
height  of  the  fashion.  But  the  young  man  thought  she  looked 
like  Juno — Juno  with  a  bustle !  They  had  been  talking  about 
Doctor  Vardaman. 

"  The  doctor's  really  awfully  fond  of  his  queer  old  things," 
J.  B.  remarked.  "  If  you  show  the  least  interest — and  it's  not 
put  on  with  me,  I  am  interested — he'll  take  you  around,  and 
explain  to  you  who  all  the  big-bugs,  his  ancestors  in  the  por- 
traits were,  and  what  they  did,  and  tell  you  about  his  first 
editions,  and  the  old  wine  he's  got  laid  away,  and  the  auto- 


216  THE    TENANTS 

graph-letters  to  his  grandfather  from  Benjamin  Franklin 
and  all  the  rest  of  it." 

"  How  odd !  "  said  Muriel. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it's  funny  to  you,  but  you  see  over  here 
we  don't  have  all  that  the  way  you  do.  People  aren't  used  to 
seeing  it  about  them  all  the  time.  I  expect  that's  the  reason 
Huddesley  fits  in  with  the  doctor  so  well ;  he  cares  for  every- 
thing and  understands — the  way  old  family-servants  do  in 
novels  you  know.   He's  so  English " 

"  No?  he  isn't,"  said  Muriel  decidedly.  "  You  think  so,  but 
none  of  you  know.  Nobody  talks  like  that  at  home." 

"  Well,  not  nice  people  of  course,  but  servants " 

"  No,  not  servants  either.  He's  no  more  like  a  real  servant 
at  home  than  our  stage- Yankees  are  like  you." 

"  You've  never  come  into  contact  with  his  class  much,  I 
guess,"  said  J.  B.,  remembering  that  the  treatment  accorded 
servants  varies  widely.  "  Everything  is  different  with  us ;  now 
the  doctor  likes  to  make  him  talk.  We're  all  going  down  there 
to  dinner  Friday  night,  did  you  know  it?  " 

"  What,  all  of  us?  Why,  that's  the  night  we " 

"  No,  only  the  men,  I  mean.  The  doctor  told  Mrs.  Pallin- 
der  he'd  like  to  have  us,  and  he  thought  maybe  she'd  just  as 
lief  we  were  out  of  the  house,  while  all  of  you  were  getting 
ready  for  the  performance.  There  are  so  many  of  us,  you 
know,  for  '  William  Tell.'  Some  of  the  fellows  have  sent  their 
clothes  out  to  his  house,  and  are  going  to  dress  there." 

Muriel  looked  at  him  timidly.  He  was  unconsciously  open- 
ing a  door  for  the  entrance  of  that  all-important  topic ;  she 
was  not  quick,  however,  and  besides  she  was  in  doubt  whether 
— whether  it  would  be  quite  proper  for  her  to  speak  to  him 
about  it  at  all!  Next  moment  the  opportunity  was  gone. 


THE    TENANTS  217 

"  If  we  get  everybody  in  a  good  humour  with  the  first  per- 
formance, they  won't  care  if  '  Mrs.  Tankerville '  is  &  little 
rocky,"  J.  B.  observed  sagely.  "  Teddy  isn't  so  good  as 
Jenks  the  butler.  He's  not — not  convincing.  Ted  doesn't 
look  as  if  he  could  steal  a  potato,  let  alone  a  hatful  of  dia- 
monds. And  then  he  hasn't  the  chances  to  be  funny  there  are 
in  '  Tell.'  Nobody  knows  their  part  yet,  and  here  the  thing's 
set  for  Friday  !  " 

"  I'm  rather  sure  of  myself  all  except  one  place,"  Muriel 
said.  "  We've  been  going  so  we  haven't  had  much  time  to 
study." 

"  I  know.  It's  an  awful  rush  this  season.  The  girls  can 
stand  it,  of  course;  they  rest  in  the  daytime.  But  a  fellow's 
got  to  go  to  business.  Somebody  said  to  Arch.  Lewis  the 
other  day,  '  Oh,  never  mind.  They  don't  need  you  at  the  of- 
fice.' He  said,  '  Yes,  but  hang  it  all,  I  don't  want  'em  to  find 
that  out ! '  " 

Muriel  listened  and  assented  vaguely;  she  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  young  men  who  had  businesses  and  offices.  Time  was 
passing,  and  they  were  no  nearer  the  point  than  they  were  ten 
minutes  ago.  She  hesitated;  and  J.  B.  admired,  yet  a  little 
wondered  at,  the  swift  changes  of  colour  in  her  cheeks. 
"  These  English  girls  beat  everything  at  blushing,"  he  said 
to  himself;  and  then  removed  his  eyes  with  a  sudden  guilty 
flush  over  his  own  face  as  he  realised  that  he  had  been  staring 
too  hard.   But,  Jove,  what  a  beauty  she  was ! 

"  You  all  think  Mr.  Johns  is  very  good  in  his  part,  don't 
you  ?  "  said  Muriel,  nervously  conscious  that  they  had  been 
silent  too  long.  American  men,  she  had  noticed,  expected  the 
girls  to  do  the  most  of  the  talking;  and,  somehow,  the  girls 
did. 


218  THE    TENANTS 

"  Why,  yes,  especially  in  '  Tell,'  don't  you?  " 

"  Well,  I — I  don't  always  understand,  you  know.  And  the 
last  night  we  rehearsed,  after  we  went  to  that  dinner  at  the 
Ellises',  I  couldn't  even  make  out  some  of  the  words  he  said, 
he  spoke  so " 

"  He — he  wasn't  very  well — we  had  to  call  the  rehearsal 
off,  you  remember?"  interrupted  the  young  man  hastily. 
Muriel  was  surprised  to  see  him  redden  and  avoid  her  eyes. 
There  was  an  awkward  pause — the  kind  of  pause  that,  had 
Muriel  been  an  American  girl,  with  their  uncanny  sharpness  of 
intuition,  she  would  not  have  allowed  to  occur.  But,  had 
Muriel  been  an  American  girl,  this  history  would  have  re- 
mained forever  unwritten.  But  for  her  visit  to  the  Pallin- 
ders'  there  would  have  been  no  '  Tell,'  no  '  Mrs.  Tankerville,' 
no  dinner  at  Doctor  Vardaman's — who  can  say  what  might 
have  happened  instead? 

"  Ted  can  imitate  Billy  Rice  first-rate,"  said  J.  B.,  anxious 
to  steer  gracefully  away  from  an  uncomfortable  situation. 
"  We  had  a  minstrel-show  one  time,  and  he  made  up  to  look 
like  Rice  and  sang  that  song  of  his : 

"  Arthur,  they  say,  will  em-i-grate," 
"  Then  all  the  rest  of  us  had  to  shout,  you  know, 

"WHEN?", 

"  Bye-and-bye ! 
Into  the  ma-tri-mo-ni-al  state." 
"WHEN?" 
"  Bye-and-bye ! " 

"  They're  all  the  time  getting  off  something  about  the  Presi- 
dent marrying  again,  you  know.  Teddy  was  as  good  as  Rice 
any  day." 


THE    TENANTS        -  219 

"  Billy  Rice?  "  repeated  Muriel.  She  had  not  thought  the 
fragment  of  comic  song  very  comic  (and  therein  I  dare  say 
she  was  right),  and  she  knew  no  more  who  Billy  Rice  was 
than — than  the  average  reader  of  these  lines.  Time  has  dis- 
missed that  fat,  jolly  troubadour.  Upon  what  bank  of  misty 
Acheron  does  he  now  perform  his  melodies?  And  where  are 
the  snows  of  yester-year? 

"  He's  a  big  fat  fellow — a  white  man,  you  know.  They're 
all  white,  but  blacked  up,  in  the  minstrel-shows,"  J.  B.  ex- 
plained patiently. 

"  Fancy  !   What  do  they  do?  " 

"  Why,  sing  and  dance ;  buck-and-wing,  and  all  that.  It's 
rather  knock-down-and-drag-out  fun,  some  of  it ;  and  some's 
pretty  good." 

"I  don't  believe  I'd  understand  the  jokes,"  said  Muriel 
forlornly.  "  It's  so  different  at  home — it's  quite  simple.  Every- 
one always  knows  when  to  laugh.  But  you  know  that  song 
you  sing  in  '  Tell,'  '  The  Maiden  on  the  Icy  Plank,'  that  first 
verse — would  you  mind  explaining?  You  know  where  is  says: 

"  The  maiden  on  the  icy  plank 
Showed  conduct  quite  surprising, 
She  went  and  got  a  cake  of  yeast — 
Then  fell  instead  of  rising ! " 

I — I  don't  quite  see  it — the — the  point,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  that's  just  nonsense,  you  know — it's  just  silly.    The 

fact  is — yeast,  you  know,  yeast,  well,  it  makes  things  rise, 

and  she  fell ' 

"  Oh,  she  ate  the  yeast  ?  "   said  Muriel  with  a  charming 

smile.    "  Oh,  that's  very  droll !  "    She  almost  laughed.    "  It 

didn't  say  that,  you  see.    That's  why  I  didn't  understand. 

But  she  ate  the  yeast ! " 


220  THE    TENANTS 

"  Yes,  she  ate  the  yeast,"  said  J.  B.  resignedly.  "  One 
can't  quite  explain  a  thing  like  that  somehow.  It's  only  meant 
to  be  silly." 

"Most  of  your  American  jokes  are  like  that,  aren't  they? 
I  mean  they  have  to  be  explained.  At  first  I  thought  it  was 
because  I  was  slow — but  you  say  such  queer  things — and  one 
can't  ever  be  certain  whether  you're  in  fun  or  earnest." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  hard  for  a  stranger.  Is  there  anything 
else — any  other  joke,  I  mean,  that  you'd  like  to  get  at  the 
true  inwardness  of?  " 

Muriel  recognised  the  opportunity  she  had  sought. 

"  I — I  wish  you'd  tell  me,  if  you  don't  mind,  you  know  that 
costume  you  wear  in  the  play,  that  kilt — why  do  you  wear 
that,  Mr.  Taylor?" 

J.  B.  surveyed  her  perplexed. 

"  Why  do  I  wear  the  kilt  and  all  the  rest  of  it?  Why — why 
to  make  a  little  fun,  you  know." 

"  I  thought  that  was  it,"  said  Muriel  earnestly.  "  But,  you 
see,  it's  really  not  funny." 

"Oh,  isn't  it?" 

"  Not  a  bit,"  Muriel  assured  him ;  and  then  her  heart 
dropped  dismally  at  the  expression  on  his  face. 

He  did  not  looked  pleased  somehow. 

"  I — I  didn't  mean  that  you  aren't  funny,  you  know,  I 
mean  it  isn't  funny." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  don't  catch  the  distinction,"  said  the  young 
man  a  little  drily.  Bitter  is  the  cup  of  the  unappreciated 
joker. 

"  I  mean — I — I "  quavered  Muriel  miserably.  "  Maybe 

it's  because  I'm  not  used  to  your  fun — I  don't  see  things — it's 
always   really   funny   at  home — so   different   from  here — so 


THE    TENANTS  221 

much  easier.   But — I — I  think  you're  too — too  nice  to  wear 
a  kilt ! " 

The  tears  came  into  her  eyes ;  tears  of  embarrassment  and 
perhaps  some  deeper  unanalysed  feeling.  Amazement  encom- 
passed J.  B.  What  on  earth  was  the  matter  with  her?  It  was 
not  possible  she  thought  the  kilt  indecent ! 

"  And — and  that  little  red  apple  on  the  corner  of  your 
head !  "  faltered  Muriel.  "  It  all  makes  you  look  so  foolish — 
not  at  all  funny.  And  you're  not  foolish — really  and  truly 
not  the  least  bit  foolish — and  I  think  it's  a  shame  for  you  to 
make  yourself  look  so !  " 

At  the  moment  J.  B.  looked  exceedingly  foolish.  Her  in- 
terest was  gratifying,  of  course ;  there  was  something  almost 
maternally  sweet  in  it.  But  it  put  him,  as  he  phrased  it  to 
himself,  in  an  awful  box. 

"You — you're  not  vexed,  are  you?"  said  Muriel,  holding 
her  chin  steady  by  an  effort.  The  young  man  glanced  at  her, 
and  surprised  an  expression  that  caused  him  to  look  away, 
crimsoning.  The  next  instant  he  inwardly  cursed  himself 
savagely  for  a  despicable  cad.    Couldn't  a  nice  girl  look  at 

him  without  his  imagining ! 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  get  mad  about  a  little  thing  like  that,  Miss 
Baxter,"  he  said  heartily.  "I'm  feeling  pretty  stuck-up 
about  your — your  speaking  of  it  at  all,  you  know.  Of  course, 
it  is  a  Tom-fool  costume,  but  I've  let  myself  in  for  it  now, 
and  I  can't  very  well  back  out,  and  leave  them  without  any- 
body at  the  last  minute.  And  I  won't  look  any  sillier  than  the 
others — not  so  silly  as  Ted  for  instance,  in  women's  clothes." 
"  Oh,  he  doesn't  make  any  difference !  "  said  Muriel,  almost 
with  impatience. 

"Well,  he  thinks  he's  pretty  important,  anyway,"  J.  B. 


222  THE    TENANTS 

said,  wondering  privately  what  they  would  have  done  without 
the  comparatively  safe  and  conservative  ground  of  Teddy 
Johns'  character  and  abilities  for  a  retreat,  when  the  conver- 
sational horizon  grew  overcast.  "  In  the  second  play  espe- 
cially— making  away  with  peoples'  diamond  coronets  and 
things !  Mrs.  Pallinder's  going  to  let  us  have  all  hers.  She's 
got  some  sparklers,  you  know,  regular  headlights ;  you've 
seen  her  wear  them?  Tell  you,  if  I  were  in  Ted's  place,  I 
wouldn't  want  to  have  'em  in  my  charge,  even  for  a  few 
minutes — and  it's  all  through  the  last  two  acts — until  the 
place  where  they  drag  him  out  from  behind  the  screen,  after 
I'm  supposed  to  shoot  him,  remember?  " 

"  Yes,  where  you  say :  '  Don't  put  the  handcuffs  on  a  dead 
man,  men ! '  " 

"  And  Billy  Potter  says :  6  He  ain't  dead ;  you  can't  kill 
that  kind  with  a  blast  o'  dynamite.  I  guess  these  here's  your 
tiary,  lady.'  Ted's  going  to  have  it  all  done  up  in  a  package 
in  his  inside  pocket.  He  says  he's  going  to  keep  the  things 
in  his  clothes  the  whole  time.  There  are  so  many  servants 
around,  and  the  carpenters  to  fix  the  scenery,  and  the  ca- 
terer's men — you  can't  be  too  careful.  'Twouldn't  do  to  leave 
a  five-thousand-dollar  diamond  necklace  lying  around  loose ; 
everybody  in  town  knows  about  that  necklace,  I  guess." 

"  Do  you  suppose  Mr.  Potter  really  looks  at  all  like  a 
detective?  " 

J.  B.  laughed.  "  No.  He  cocks  his  hat  over  one  eye,  and 
acts  that  tough  way,  just  to  give  the  part  a  kind  of  snap — 
a  little  go,  you  know.  But  the  only  detective  I  ever  knew  was 
a  very  quiet,  gentlemanly  sort  of  fellow.  We  had  a  little 
trouble  at  the  bank  once,  and  had  this  chap — his  name  was 
Judd — there  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  in  plain  clothes,  you  know. 


THE    TENANTS  223 

He  didn't  look  like  Vidocq  either — not  a  bit.  He  looked  like 
— like — well,  a  nice  young  fellow  clerking  in  a  shoe-store, 
say." 

"  Fancy !  " 

The  music  achieved  its  final  chord ;  and  the  stairs  promptly 
filled  with  resting  couples.  Mrs.  Gates  came  out  of  the  par- 
lour with  an  armful  of  gilt  shepherds'  crooks  and  wreaths  of 
tissue-paper  roses.  She  looked  up  at  the  long  slant  of  young 
people,  nodding  and  signalling;  and  went  back  to  speak  to 
the  musicians.  The   "juhman  "  was   about  to   begin. 

"  I  do  think  it's  too  funny  for  any  use,"  said  Kitty  Old- 
ham across  her  late  partner  to  the  nearest  girl,  "  the  way 
Britannia  throws  herself  at  somebody's  head.  Simply  mo- 
nopolises him  the  whole  time." 

"  Oh,  they  were  just  sitting  out  one  dance,"  said  the  man 
with  her,  displaying  an  unexpected  acuteness.  "  Never  mind 
looking  at  me  that  way,  Miss  Kitty.  I  know  whom  you  were 
talking  about.   J.  B.  just  didn't  want  to  dance  it,  I  guess." 

"  No  wonder.  Self-preservation's  the  first  law  of  nature," 
said  Kitty  with  undaunted  pertness. 

"  Funny  they  don't  teach  'em  to  dance,  on  the  other  side, 
isn't  it?" 

"  Oh,  she  thinks  she's  dancing,"  said  Kitty,  lazily  scorn- 
ful. "  It's  a  delusion  they  all  have,  I  suppose.  J.  B.'s  the  only 
man  around  big  enough  for  her — except  Gwynne,  and  he's 
tall,  but  he's  too  slim.  He's  dropped  out  of  the  play — did 
you  know  ?  " 

"  Why,  no— what  for?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  If  he'd  been  here  to-night,  I'd  have  asked 
him.  He  just  walked  off,  and  nobody  said  anything,  for  fear 
of  putting  their  foot  in  it.    I  guess  there  never  was  a  thing 


224  THE    TENANTS 

of  the  kind  yet,  that  there  wasn't  a  lot  of  fighting  about.  It's 
bound  to  be  that  way,  you  know.  Nobody  will  be  on  speaking- 
terms  before  it's  over." 

"  Have  they  got  someone  to  take  his  place?  " 

"  I  believe  Joe  McHenry  is  going  to  do  Matilda,  and 
they're  going  to  leave  out  Joe's  old  part — it  wasn't  much 
anyway,  and  somebody  or  other  can  take  his  speeches.  Pretty 
nearly  every  man  in  town  that  can  sing  or  act  at  all  is  in  it 
already,  you  know.  Archie  says  he  doesn't  know  what  they'd 
do,  if  anyone  were  to  be  taken  sick." 

"  But  why  do  you  suppose  Gwynne ?  " 

"  Goodness  knows !  It's  a  bother,  we'd  fixed  up  all  the  pro- 
grammes with  his  name  on,  and  there  isn't  time  to  make  a 
whole  new  lot  now.  You  can't  tell  anything  about  it — there's 
a  queer  streak  in  all  the  Gwynnes,  you  know." 


CHAPTER    SEVENTEEN 

DOCTOR  VARDAMAN'S  house  wore  something  of 
a  festive  look  on  Friday  night  when  the  "  all-star 
cast,"  as  some  ribald  jeerer  had  christened  them, 
of  "  William  Tell,"  began  to  arrive.  It  was 
partly  due  to  the  appearance  of  Huddesley  in  his  worn  even- 
ing-clothes, carefully  brushed  and  pressed.  How  he  contrived 
to  get  the  dinner — and  it  was  a  good  dinner — cooked  and 
ready  for  serving,  and  yet  present  himself  in  the  doctor's  lit- 
tle oil-clothed  entry  to  open  the  door  whenever  the  bell  tinkled, 
clean,  cool,  and  unhurried,  ready  to  take  charge  of  overcoats 
and  hats — how  Huddesley  did  all  that,  I  say,  would  have  been 
a  mystery  to  any  woman.  Even  some  of  the  young  men  spoke 
of  it  afterwards  with  enthusiasm.  As  I  have  already  stated,  it 
happened  that  I  never  saw  Huddesley  except  once,  later  in 
this  same  fateful  Friday  evening,  as  we  shall  presently  hear, 
so  that  I  am  unable  to  describe  him ;  but  he  achieved  a  cer- 
tain measure  of  immortality  in  much  better-known  and  more 
widely-read  columns  than  mine  will  ever  be.  And  in  fact  there 
could  not  have  been  much  about  him  to  describe ;  I  think  he 
was  undersized  and  lean,  a  decent-looking,  temperate,  capable 
creature.  But  nothing  in  his  appearance,  they  tell  me,  would 
have  moved  one  to  a  second  glance  at  him ;  and  perhaps  it  was 
that  very  neutrality  of  face  and  figure  that  adapted  him  so 
well  to  his  position.  That,  and  his  manners,  prudently  bal- 
anced between  respectful  reticence  and  respectful  interest. 
He  had  contributed  in  no  small  share  to  the  coaching  of 
everybody  in  the  all-star  cast ;  he  knew  these  young  men  as 

225 


226  THE    TENANTS 

well  as  any  subordinate  can  know  his  superiors — yet  he  took 
their  coats  in  sedate  silence,  recognising  them  only  by  his 
grave  "  yes,  sir,"  and  "  no  sir,"  and  retiring  to  his  kitchen 
as  soon  as  his  services  were  no  longer  needed.  Just  once  did 
J.  B.  imagine  that  he  detected  a  faint  flavour  of — call  it 
irony  or  covert  impudence  in  the  man's  bearing ;  and  he  pres- 
ently dismissed  the  idea  from  his  mind  as  too  fantastic.  It 
was  when  Huddesley  was  hanging  up  Teddy  Johns'  coat 
alongside  the  others  on  the  old-fashioned  iron  hat-rack, 
wrought  in  the  semblance  of  a  grapevine-  with  tendrils  and 
bunches  of  fruit  that  decorated  the  hall  between  two  life-size 
oil-paintings  of  the  doctor's  "  big-bugs." 

"Who's  that,  Huddesley?"  asked  Teddy  affably,  indicat- 
ing by  a  nod  the  one  to  the  right.  "  The  respectable-look- 
ing party  in  the  knee-breeches,  I  mean." 

"  That's  Doctor  Vardaman's  grandhuncle,  I  believe,  sir ; 
'e's  dead." 

"No,  you  don't  say?  Tst,  tst!  Too  bad!  That's  the  first 
I've  heard  of  it.   When?" 

"  Habout  heighteen-twelve,  Hi  hunderstand,  Mr.  Theo- 
dore," said  Huddesley,  paying  the  tribute  of  a  deferential 
smile  to  the  other's  j  ocularity. 

"  Well,  well,  in  the  midst  of  life — the  doctor's  bearing  up 
tolerably,  however,  I  see.  Do  you  suppose  it  was  a  good  like- 
ness? What  a  terrific  big  red  nose  the  old  boy  had,  didn't 
he?" 

"  Hi'm  hafraid  'e  was  haddicted  to  the  bottle,  sir,"  said 
Huddesley  respectfully.  "  That's  what  comes  of  the  'abit 
hoften." 

"Hey?   The  bottle?" 
Yes,  sir — 'e  took  a  drop  too  much,  I  dessay,"  said  Hud- 


a 


THE    TENANTS  227 

desley  without  the  slightest  change  of  expression.  "  But  a 
great  many  gents  did  in  those  days  compared  to  what  does 
now,  Hi'm  told.  Heverybody's  very  temperate  now,  sir,  as 
you  must  'ave  noticed.  'E  probably  began  nearly,  the  hold 
gent  yonder ;  you  might  say  'e  was  brought  hup  on  the 
bottle." 

J.  B.  eyed  the  man  as  Teddy,  colouring  a  little,  turned 
hastily  into  the  parlour ;  but  Huddesley's  face  was  guileless. 
It  was  impossible  to  guess  how  much  the  fellow  knew  or  meant 
to  hint,  though,  indeed,  it  would  have  required  no  great  pene- 
tration to  discover  poor  Teddy's  weakness.  The  wonder  was 
that  Huddesley,  the  silent,  the  discreet,  should  have  allowed 
himself  to  touch  upon  the  subject  at  all.  It  struck  J.  B.  that 
he  was  almost  too  innocently  humorous ;  he  wondered  if  they 
had  spoiled  Huddesley,  as  Colonel  Pallinder  had  predicted, 
by  their  unthinking  familiarity.  Muriel's  words  recurred  un- 
comfortably to  the  young  man's  mind :  "  You  think  he's 
English,  but  you  don't  know."  "  He's  no  more  like  a  servant 
at  home  than  our  stage- Yankees  are  like  you."  But  the  idea 
of  his  being  anything  else,  of  his  perpetrating  an  elaborate 
hoax  extending  over  two  months  and  involving  disagreeable 
manual  labour,  for  no  conceivable  end,  was  too  preposterous. 
The  thought,  hardly  more  than  half-formed,  floated  across 
J.  B.'s  mental  horizon,  and  vanished  like  a  shred  of  cloud 
before  the  wind.  Yet  his  confidence  in  Huddesley  was  oddly 
shaken ;  he  halted,  wavering  at  the  fulfilment  of  a  plan  he  had 
had  in  mind  but  a  moment  earlier.  To  say :  "  Look  here,  Hud- 
desley, I  wish  you'd  not  fill  Mr.  Johns'  glass  as  often  as  the 
rest  of  us,  and  never  quite  full  anyhow  " —  surely  that  would 
have  been  a  small  matter,  and  no  disloyalty  to  his  friend, 
rather  a  kindness.    And  Huddesley  was  discreet — yes,  that 


228  THE    TENANTS 

was  just  it,  confound  his  wooden-faced  discretion!  All  at 
once  it  savoured  to  J.  B.  of  slyness.  This  uncertain  mood 
was  new  to  him,  and  while  he  hesitated  in  a  kind  of  irritated 
wonder  at  his  own  lack  of  resolution 

"  Beg  parding,  Mr.  Breckinridge,  sir,  did  you  want  to 
speak  to  me?  "  said  Huddesley. 

That  settled  it.  J.  B.  felt  as  if  those  respectful  eyes  had 
bored  through  into  his  thoughts. 

"  No,"  he  said  shortly ;  and  followed  Teddy  into  his  host's 
presence. 

Doctor  Vardaman's  guests  sat  down  some  ten  or  twelve 
strong,  the  doctor  at  the  head  of  his  table,  in  a  dress-coat  the 
fashion  of  which  antedated  even  Huddesley's,  with  his  iron- 
grey  hair  brushed  forward  in  a  tuft  over  each  ear;  with  a 
black  stock  such  as  he  had  worn  since  the  year  '40 ;  his  eye- 
glass on  a  black  ribbon  aslant  across  his  shirt-front  like  an 
order;  and  a  pair  of  Labrador-stone  buttons  in  his  cuffs, 
dark  watery-green  with  a  crumb  of  fire  eerily  visible  in  the 
depths  of  them.  These  cuff-buttons  signalised  the  dinner  as  a 
gala-occasion ;  the  doctor  marked  the  day  with  a  Labrador- 
stone.  He  only  wore  them  when  the  event  was  of  enough  im- 
portance to  justify  such  a  display — a  queer  sentimental  trib- 
ute to  certain  queer  sentimental  recollections.  They  had 
been  given  him  who  knows  how  long  ago,  and  by  whom?  So 
do  we  all  in  secret  offer  some  absurd  and  pathetic  oblation 
before  the  shrines  of  the  past.  I  dare  say  when  the  doctor 
opened  the  top  drawer  of  his  high-shouldered  mahogany 
bureau  and  took  his  Labrador-stone  buttons  out  of  their 
dingy  little  green  morocco  case,  for  one  moment  the  breath 
of  a  vanished  spring  saluted  him,  and  the  roses  still  bloomed 
by  the  calm  Bendemeer.    Thus  did  the  old  gentleman  pre- 


THE    TENANTS  229 

side,  invested  with  the  kind  dignity  of  his  age  and  character, 
and  of  his  noble  and  beautiful  profession;  and  I  have  no 
doubt  his  ancient  bachelor  heart  warmed  a  good  deal  at  this 
exercise  of  hospitality,  at  the  brave  sight  of  the  double  row  of 
young  men's  faces  before  him,  and  the  deep  and  pleasant 
sound  of  their  laughter.  The  other  end  of  the  table  was  held 
by  Mr.  J.  Breckinridge  Taylor,  as  the  journals  persisted  in 
reporting  him ;  and  Huddesley  brought  in  the  soup.  The  doc- 
tor served  it  himself  from  a  tub  of  a  tureen,  with  a  silver 
ladle  not  less  than  a  yard  long,  both  of  which  had  graced  the 
tables  of  his  mother  and  grandmother — there  were  giants  in 
those  days ! — as  had  all  the  other  furnishings  of  this  memora- 
ble dinner. 

"  There  was  one  of  those  three-story-high  cut-glass  things, 
with  tiers  of  cups  on  circular  platforms — I  don't  know  what 
you  call  'em — filled  with  shaky  jelly  stuff  and  cream  all  foamy 
on  top  of  it,"  one  more  than  commonly  observant  young  man 
told  me  afterwards.  "  That  was  in  the  middle  of  the  table. 
And  two  silver  castors  with  red  Bohemian  glass  bottles  full 
of  vinegar  and  oil  and  things  like  that,  you  know,  on  each 
side  of  it ;  you  could  whirl  'em  around,  and  pick  out  the  bot- 
tle you  wanted.  And  there  were  shallow  glass  dishes  with  jelly 
and  two  tall  ones  like  big  champagne-glasses,  with  kind  of 
thick  sticky  preserves — they  had  lids,  the  tall  ones.  After  the 
soup,  everything  came  on  at  once,  game,  prairie-chicken,  at 
the  doctor's  end,  and  just  plain  John  Smith  chicken 
roasted,  about  the  middle,  and  boiled  leg  of  mutton  with  this 
white  sauce  that  has  hard-boiled  egg  and  little  green  things 
like  pickled  shoe-buttons" — he  meant  capers — "  all  through 
it,  for  J.  B.  to  carve,  and  oysters  and  a  ham,  and  four  or  five 
vegetables  all  over  the  table.  There  were  the  funniest  old 


230  THE    TENANTS 

steel  knives  with  ivory  handles,  and  thin  old  silver  forks  and 
spoons  with  the  doctor's  crest,  and  a  motto,  '  Foy  tiendrai,' 
whatever  that  may  mean,  on  the  backs.  Everybody  had  half- 
a-dozen  wine-glasses;  and  to  begin  with  there  were  four  de- 
canters of  sherry,  one  at  each  corner  of  the  table,  and  when 
we'd  finished  those — well,  you  had  to  have  a  lot  of  liquor  to 
get  through  a  dinner  like  that,  you  know — Huddesley  brought 
out  three  other  kinds." 

J.  B.  conscientiously  carving  the  joint  at  his  end  of  the 
table,  viewed  the  shrinkage  in  the  decanters  with  considerable 
uneasiness.  There  was  nothing  prim  or  kill-joy  about  J.  B. 
He  had  no  idea  of  affecting  the  virtue  that  denies  to  another 
man  his  cakes  and  ale.  But  he  was  a  hard-headed  young  fel- 
low, not  given  to  self-indulgence  of  any  kind ;  and  although 
in  the  State  of  his  birth  and  earlier  years  over-drinking 
was  anything  but  uncommon,  he  confessed  to  a  sort  of  con- 
temptuous impatience  with  the  man  who  did  not  know  when 
he  had  enough.  It  seemed  as  if  one  or  two  of  the  present 
company  had  nearly  reached  that  desirable  condition  ;  and  still 
Huddesley  travelled  about  the  table,  impartial  as  Fate  her- 
self, leaving  no  glass  unfilled;  or  even  half -full.  J.  B.  could 
see  Doctor  Vardaman's  face  but  imperfectly  around  the  erec- 
tion of  custard-cups  in  the  centre,  but  he  thought  an  anxiety 
equal  to  his  own  appeared  and  vanished  there  by  turns.  Once 
or  twice  the  old  gentleman  seemed  on  the  edge  of  signalling 
Huddesley  to  hold  his  hand,  but  some  feeling  rooted,  most 
probably  in  his  old-fashioned  notions  of  hospitality,  must 
have  restrained  him. 

"  Tell  you  what,"  said  J.  B.'s  next  neighbour  confiden- 
tially, "  Johns  is  about  as  full  as  I  like  to  see  him ;  it  don't 
take  much,  you  know.    He's  just  good  and  jolly  now,  but  if 


THE    TENANTS  231 

he    gets    much    more "     He    shook    his    head    dubiously. 

"  Say,  have  you  heard  anything  more  about  the  colonel?  I 
saw  Gwynne  Peters  on  the  street  to-day " 

"Hock  or  madeira,  sir?"  said  Huddesley  in  J.  B.'s  ear. 
"Hock,  sir?   Yes,  sir." 

"  It  seems  the  Pallinders — I  don't  care,  hock,  I  guess. 
What's  the  difference  anyhow?  I  don't  know  one  of  these 
wines  from  the  other." 

"•What  about  the  Pallinders  now?  "  asked  J.  B. 

At  that  very  moment,  the  length  of  the  table  away,  Archie 
Lewis  was  saying,  "  Suppose  you've  heard  that  about  Gwynne 
Peters,  Doctor?" 

Doctor  Vardaman  set  clown  his  glass  with  unusual  emphasis. 
"  That's  the  third  or  fourth  time  this  week  that  I've  heard 
6  that  about  Gwynne  Peters,'  "  said  he.  "  And  in  spite  of  it, 
I've  never  found  out  yet  what  '  that  about  Gwynne  Pet- 
ers' is !" 

"  What!  Didn't  you  know?  Why,  I  thought  somehow  you 
knew  all  about  the  Gwynnes.  Haven't  you  heard  about  the 
fuss  with  Pallinder  and  all?  " 

The  doctor  shook  his  head,  and  motioned  to  Huddesley  for 
fresh  glasses.  "  Never  saw  anything  like  the  way  the  boys  are 
getting  through  the  wine,"  was  his  inward  comment.  "  And 
how  warm  they  all  look!  "  Then  aloud:  "  So  that's  the  rea- 
son Gwynne  dropped  out  of  the  play  ;  I  thought  it  a  little  odd 
when  he  declined  my  dinner,"  he  said,  fixing  a  thoughtful 
gaze  on  Archie.  "  There's  been  a  fuss  with  the  Colonel,  has 
there?   What   was   it   about?"   He   fully   expected   to  hear 

Archie  say,  "  Why,  you  know  old  Steven  Gwynne "  had 

done  this  or  that.     But  the  young  man  only  looked  at  him 
inquiringly. 


232  THE    TENANTS 

"  I  thought  you  always  knew  all  there  was  to  know  about 
the  Gwynnes,"  he  repeated.  "  Templeton,  their  agent,  has  a 
desk  with  us — do  you  know  him?  " 

"  No — yes,  I've  seen  him.  He's  short  and  stout  and  wears 
spectacles,  doesn't  he?" 

"  Yes,  that's  Templeton.  You  must  have  heard  father's 
stories  about  him  and  the  Gwynnes ;  he  has  this  little  real- 
estate  business,  and  scratches  along  somehow,  I  believe  the 
Gwynne  estate's  the  biggest  part  of  it.  Father  says  it's  no 
trouble  at  all  now  compared  to  what  it  was  before  Gwynne 
Peters  took  hold;  father  says  there  were  two  or  three  years 
when  Gwynne  was  away,  before  he  got  through  Harvard,  you 
know,  when  Templeton's  life  wasn't  worth  living." 

"  Well,  I  never  understood  that  Gwynne  managed  the  estate 
personally,"  said  the  doctor,  recalling,  however,  a  recent 
scene  in  his  library  with  considerable  interest. 

"  No,  he  don't.  He — well,  he  manages  the  family — I  guess 
that's  about  the  size  of  it.  Gwynne's  getting  a  pretty  good 
law-practice,  you  know;  he  couldn't  take  his  time  to  run 
around  looking  at  roofs  and  down-spouts.  That's  Temple- 
ton's  job.  When  he  leased  the  house  to  Colonel  Pallinder,  you 
ought  to  have  seen  Templeton !  I'll  bet  he  was  the  happiest 
man  in  Washington  County.  He's  a  nervous,  excitable  little 
fellow  anyhow.  He  said  Pallinder  leased  it  for  three  years 
at  a  hundred  and  fifty  a  month,  and  it  was  a  perfect  miracle ; 
the  house  is  awfully  old,  and  it  was  all  out  of  repair  and 
hadn't  any  modern  improvements,  except  a  furnace.  Why, 
you  remember  what  it  was  like,  Doctor.  Well,  then,  the  ques- 
tion of  repapering  and  putting  it  in  order  came  up,  and  he 
told  the  Colonel  flat  he  couldn't  allow  but  just  so  much  (one 
month's  rent,  I  think)  for  repairs.  It  was  too  funny,  Doctor, 


THE    TENANTS  233 

to  hear  him  telling  father  about  it.  '  You  know  there's  about 
twenty  of  the  Gwynne  heirs,  Judge  Lewis,'  says  he,  '  and  no- 
body's got  any  money,  and  everybody's  got  a  say ;  and  I 
simply  couldn't  promise  to  do  all  the  Colonel  wanted.  Every 
time  I  paint  a  porch  or  fix  somebody's  sink,  those  two  old  Miss 
Gwynnes  take  to  their  beds!'  You  just  ought  to  have  seen 
Templeton  telling  all  this,  doctor,  with  those  big  glasses  shin- 
ing, and  his  Adam's  apple  kind  of  working  up  and  down  the 
way  it  does  with  nervous  men.  I  guess  it's  not  all  pie  attending 
to  the  Gwynnes'  affairs,  even  now.  They'll  all  so  queer — 
except  Gwynne  Peters,  he's  all  right.  Finally  the  Colonel  said 
he  rather  expected  to  buy  the  house  anyhow,  and  if  they  had 
no  objection  he'd  go  ahead  and  fix  it  to  suit  himself,  at  his 
own  expense.  This  is  Templeton's  side  I'm  giving  you,  you 
know;  I  guess  it's  as  near  the  truth  as  we'll  ever  get.  Seems 
to  me  Templeton  was  pretty  careless,  not  to  have  it  all  in 
writing.  Anyhow,  you  know  what  they  did,  Doctor ;  built  that 
little  conservatory,  and  put  in  all  new  plumbing,  and  had.  the 
house  painted  and  papered  and  grained  from  top  to  bottom — 
the  Lord  knows  what  all  the  bills  will  come  to — the  Lord 
knows  and  He  won't  tell !  But  somebody  else  will,"  said  Archie 
with  a  grin. 

"  Well,  what's  happened?  " 

"  Everything,"  said  Archie  concisely.  "  The  wonder  is,  it 
didn't  happen  before.  In  the  first  place,  the  plumber  turns 
up  in  our  office  the  other  day  with  his  unpaid  bill  for  six 
hundred  and  sixty-four  dollars  and  eight  cents.  He  can't  get 
anything  out  of  Pallinder — Pallinder  cannily  refers  him  to 
the  owners  of  the  property.  He  comes  in  with  fire  in  his  eye, 
wanting  to  sue  Templeton  or  the  estate — father  says  he's  got 
a  case,  too.    The  plumber's  a  German,  and  pretty  excitable, 


234  THE    TENANTS 

and  I  told  you  Templeton  was  excitable,  so  you  can  imagine 
what  it  was  like.  We  tried  to  smooth  'em  down,  but  we  all  got 
so  full  of  laugh,  we  made  it  worse,  I  think.  One  of  the  boys 
in  the  office  says :  '  Oh,  come  now,  Mr.  Scheurmann,  let  him 
down  easy,  knock  off  the  eight  cents,  won't  you  ?  '  '  I  vill  nodt 
gompromise !  I  vill  haf  my  money !  I  vill  nodt  knock  off  von 
pfennig  ! '  I  tell  you  the  office  was  a  lively  place  for  about  two 
minutes,  with  Scheurmann  jumping  up  and  down  and  shak- 
ing his  fists  on  one  side,  and  Templeton  jumping  up  and 
down  shaking  his  on  the  other !  " 

"  Well,  but  what's  all  this  got  to  do  with  Gwynne  ?  " 
"  Why,  he  came  in  after  a  while  with  some  papers  that  I'd 
taken  over  to  his  office  a  day  or  so  before,  when  I  found  that 
old  Gwynne  fellow  that  lives  out  on  the  farm,  you  know,  and 
the  two  little  old  Gwynne  twins  sitting  around  like  crows 
waiting  for  Gwynne  to  come  in — I  told  you  about  that,  didn't 
I?  I  was  pretty  sure  right  then  that  there  was  going  to  be 
some  kind  of  trouble.  Anyway  Gwynne  came  into  our  office, 
and  Templeton  and  the  plumber  left  off  jumping  on  each 
other  to  light  into  him.  As  if  Gwynne  had  had  anything  to 
do  with  it !  I  never  felt  so  sorry  for  a  man  in  my  life ;  he's 
the  kind  that  always  shoulders  all  the  responsibility  and  gets 
blamed  for  everything,  somehow.  He  takes  the  whole  business 
terribly  to  heart;  he'd  been  to  see  Pallinder,  and  I  guess 
they'd  had  it  hot  and  heavy.  He  was  all  broken  up  over  it. 
He  told  father  there  was  a  poor  devil  of  a  gardener  that  had 
done  some  work  about  the  greenhouse,  and  came  to  him  with  a 
bill  for  twelve  dollars ;  his  wife  was  sick,  and  he  wanted 
Gwynne  to  see  if  he  couldn't  get  the  money  out  of  the  colonel. 
Gwynne  didn't  say  so,  but  I  know  he  paid  that  fellow  out  of 
his  own  pocket — he's  that  sort.    He  told  father  if  he  could 


THE    TENANTS  235 

he'd  rake  and  scrape  and  pay  the  whole  thing  himself  rather 
than  have  such  a  miserable  scandal  connected  with  the  family. 
He  seems  to  feel  as  if  it  all  kind  of  came  back  on  him — over 
sensitive,  I  call  it.   You'd  think  it  was  all  his  fault." 

"  I  think  I  can  understand  the  feeling,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  I'm  afraid  we've  all  bowed  ourselves  in  the  house  of 
Rimmon." 

"  Hey?  The  house?  Oh,  yes,  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about 
that,  it  all  comes  out  now,  the  rent  hasn't  been  paid,  not  one 
cent,  since  the  first  six  months!  Gwynne's  going  to  bring 
suit.  He  said  he  wouldn't  do  it  on  his  own  account,  but  he's 
Sam's  guardian — you  knew  about  Sam  being  out  at  the 
asylum,  or  whatever  Sheckard  calls  his  place? — and  he  was 
responsible  for  Sam's  money.  I  guess  he  had  a  devil  of  a  row 
with  Pallinder — he  wouldn't  talk  about  it.  You'd  think  any- 
one could  have  seen  all  along  that  the  colonel  was  nothing  but 
an  old  bunco-steerer,  but  I  suppose  Gwynne  actually  thought 
he  was  all  right  until  this  came  up !  " 

"  The  idea  of  accepting  the  Pallinders'  hospitality  doesn't 
sit  heavy  on  your  conscience  at  any  rate,"  said  the  doctor. 
Archie  looked  up,  surprised ;  then  he  flushed  a  little  and 
laughed. 

"Why,  no,  why  should  it?  Pallinder's  debts  aren't  worry- 
ing me  any.  And  as  for  talking  about  him,  why,  Doctor,  it's 
been  all  over  town  the  last  three  days." 

The  doctor's  wine  and  the  Pallinder's  affairs  circulated  in 
about  equal  proportion ;  and  there  was  a  good  deal  of  specu- 
lation as  to  how  long  the  present  state  of  things  would  last 
— how  long  the  colonel  could  hold  out.  "  I  hope  nothing's 
going  to  happen — not  while  that  Miss  Baxter,  that  nice  Eng- 
lish girl  is  here,  that's  all — the  papers  always  go  for  any- 


236  THE    TENANTS 

thing  of  that  kind  tooth-and-nail,"  said  a.  B.'s  neighbour. 
"  And  you  know,  after  all,  in  his  way,  he's  been  kind  of  pleas- 
ant to  know — I've  had  some  awfully  good  times  up  there." 

"  So  have  I.  It  seems  low-down  talking  this  way,  but 
everybody  does,"  said  J.  B. 

The  other  let  his  eyes  rest  on  J.  B.  a  moment,  half-amused, 
half-inquisitive.  "  I  wonder — I  do  wonder  what  she  thinks  of 
us  anyway." 

"She?  Who?" 

"  Why,  Miss  Baxter." 

"  Pretty  small  potatoes,  I  guess,"  said  J.  B.  absently,  one 
eye  on  Teddy. 

"  She  thinks  you're  all  right,  old  man." 

"  Bosh ! "  said  J.  B.,  resenting  the  tone  more  than  the 
words. 

"  She  told  me  the  other  day  she  thought  Breckinridge  was 
a  beautiful  name,  '  Why,  Miss  Baxter,'  I  said,  '  you  ought  to 
go  to  Kentucky;  that's  J.  B.'s  old  home.  It's  so  full  of 
Breckinridges,  you  can't  throw  a  stone  without  hitting  one 
of  'em!'  '  Really?  9  she  says,  just  like  that.  '  Really?  '  She 
thought  I  was  in  earnest ! " 

"  Every  Breckinridge  you  hit  would  have  a  gun  in  one 
hip-pocket  and  a  flask  in  the  other,"  said  J.  B.,  turning  the 
talk  from  Muriel  as  best  he  could.  "  Bad  men  to  throw  stones 
at,  on  the  whole " 

"  Champagne,  sir?  " 

"  No !  Good  Heavens,  do  you  suppose  the  doctor  expects 
us  to  eat  all  that  pudding  and  jelly  stuff,  and  fruit  and  nuts 
and  cheese  into  the  bargain?  It's — what  d'ye  call  it? — 
Homeric,  that's  what  it  is — a  Homeric  feast !  " 

"  Whash  savin'  up  for,  J.  B.?  "    Teddy  shouted  from  his 


THE    TENANTS  237 

seat ;  and  J.  B.'s  face  darkened.  He  directed  a  meaning  look 
at  Teddy's  nearest  neighbours ;  but  by  this  time  all  the  young 
men  were  beginning  to  be  somewhat  flushed,  whether  from  too 
much  eating  or  too  much  drinking,  and  there  was  an  amaz- 
ing amount  of  loud  talk  and  hilarity.  Teddy  repeated  his 
question :  "  WhyVt  you  drinkin',  J.  B.  ?  Huddesley,  you've 
lef  out  Mr.  Taylor.     Mr.  Taylor's  my  frien',  Huddesley. 

All  my  frenge  here "  He  made  a  sweeping  gesture,  and 

knocked  over  a  preserve-dish  with  a  stunning  clatter,  gazed 
at  the  ruin  a  minute,  then  burst  into  a  yell  of  laughter,  in 
which,  sad  to  relate,  he  was  joined  by  more  than  one  at  the 
table.  Teddy  suddenly  straightened  up  and  looked  around 
with  profound  gravity.  "  Somebody's  makin'  great  deal 
noise !  "  said  he,  with  elaborate  distinctness  of  utterance.  And 
then  returned  to  the  charge :  "  Why'n't  you  take  some  cham- 
pagne, J.  B.?  Free's  air,  doctor's  champagne.  You  do'  wan' 
hurt  doctor's  f eelingsh,  J.  B.  ?  "  he  inquired  pathetically. 

"  I  want  to  be  so  I  can  sing  my  part,"  said  J.  B.  good- 
humouredly.  "  It's  hard  to  sing  on  top  of  a  big  dinner  like 
this,  you  know,  Ted.  Better  look  out,  hadn't  you? — For 
Heaven's  sake,  somebody  tell  Huddesley  not  to  give  him  any 
more !  "  he  added  in  a  whisper  to  his  neighbours,  and  tried  to 
catch  the  servant's  eye.  But  Huddesley  was  bending  all  his 
energies  to  scooping  up  with  exemplary  method  and  expedi- 
tion the  mess  of  syrup  and  broken  glass;  it  seemed  impossi- 
ble to  attract  his  attention.  And  in  another  tour  of  the  table 
he  filled  Teddy's  glass  again,  no  one  remembering,  or  perhaps 
noticing  at  all,  J.  B.'s  telegrams  of  consternation.  "  Well, 
damn  it,  I'm  not  his  keeper ! "  said  the  latter  to  himself,  in  a 
rage.  "  Everybody's  forgotten  that  Ted's  pretty  near  the 
whole   show,   and   they're   letting   him   drink   himself   blind 


238  THE    TENANTS 

drunk.  He  won't  be  able  to  stand  up  after  this — I've  done  my 
best  anyhow,"  and  in  a  spirit  of  savage  recklessness,  he  swal- 
lowed his  own  champagne  at  one  gulp,  and  turned  to  find 
Huddesley  at  his  elbow  with  another  bottle.  Caution  returned 
upon  him. 

"  Say,  Huddesley,  didn't  you  see  me  shake  my  head  when 
you  gave  Mr.  Johns  that  last  glass  ?  He's  had  all  that's  good 
for  him  already.  Now  you  quit  it,  you  hear  me?  "  said  J.  B., 
conscious  of  some  confusion  in  his  own  head  where  his  last 
glass  was  apparently  hurrying  to  and  fro  uneasily.  He  spoke 
with  huge  severity ;  the  more  as  Huddesley  met  his  eye  with 
disconcerting  intelligence. 

"  Oh,  Lord  love  you,  Mr.  Breckinridge,  'e  ain't  'ad  enough 
to  'urt,"  said  he  soothingly.  "  Hi  won't  let  'im  get  hout  o' 
hand,  sir." 

J.  B.  all  at  once  found  himself  standing  up.  Why  was  he 
standing  up?   The  occasion  somehow  seemed  to  require  it. 

"You  mind  what  I  tell  you.  He's  got  a  very  impartont 
port — I  mean  a  perry  veportant  imp — I  say  a  very  important- 
part-in-the-play  -  and  -  I  -  don't-want-him-to-be-too-drunk-to- 
speakstinctly,"  said  J.  B.  painstakingly. 

"  That's  all  right,  Mr.  Taylor,  you  just  sit  right  down  in 
your  chair — it's  a  nice  chair;  you  just  sit  right  down,  now 
won't  you?  "  said  Huddesley  still  soothingly — too  soothingly 
by  far  to  suit  J.  B. 

"  Don't  you  give  me  any  impudence,"  he  said  darkly.  He 
sat  down  surveying  the  assembly  with  scorn  shading  into  pity. 
He  wasn't  drunk,  anyhow.  But  now  Doctor  Vardaman  had 
risen  in  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and  was  asking 
silence  at  the  top  of  his  lungs — not  the  best  way  in  the 
world  of  getting  it,  to  the  mind  of  a  disinterested  onlooker, 


THE    TENANTS  239 

but,  as  nobody  was  so  far  gone  yet  as  not  to  heed  the  host  of 
the  evening,  he  was  finally  obeyed,  after  Teddy,  under  the 
mistaken  impression  that  he  was  being  called  on  to  give  his 
justly  famous  rendition  of  the  farmer  about  to  kill  a  turkey, 
had  been  quelled. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  doctor,  casting  a  look  of  some 
anxiety  over  his  table-full,  "  let  us  not  forget,  that,  however 
much  we  may  be  enjoying  the  present  hour — I  speak  for  my- 
self " — here  a  number  of  voices  assured  him  heartily,  "  So 
are  we !  You  bet !  "  and  so  on — "  I  say,  gentlemen,  we  must 
not  forget  that  time  is  passing,  and  we  are  due  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  our  friends  at  nine  o'clock.  It  would  never  do,  I 
think,  to  keep  the  ladies  waiting.  And,  having  their  conven- 
ience in  view,  I  propose  that  we  drink  a  final  glass — "  said 
the  doctor,  unable  to  avoid  a  slight  stress  on  the  adjective 
— "  a  final  glass  to  the  success  of  the  performance  and  ad- 
journ. Reversing  what  seems  to  have  been  the  practice  of 
Scriptural  times,  I  will  offer  you  a  very  rare  and  choice  old 
vintage — you  will  pardon  the  conceit  that  calls  attention  to 
its  excellence — a  wine  that  was  laid  down  by  my  father,  gen- 
tlemen, in  eighteen-fifteen,  the  year  of  the  battle  of  New 
Orleans,  the  Waterloo  year,  and,  as  it  happens,  the  year  of 
my  birth.  He  obtained  it — for  it  has  its  history — of  a 
Dutch  merchant  in  Cadiz,  and  we  have  since  called  it,  not 
knowing  in  truth  what  its  real  name  should  be,  Mynheer  Van 
.  der  Cuyp's  wine.   Huddesley " 

Here  Huddesley  stepped  forward,  and  set  before  the  doctor 
with  something  of  a  flourish  two  thick  black  bottles,  dusty  as 
to  the  shoulders,  with  the  corks  drawn,  and  a  tray  of  the 
smallest  variety  of  glasses — rather  miserly  provision,  it  might 
appear,  for  such  a  company,  but  Doctor  Vardaman,  not  with- 


240  THE    TENANTS 

out  considerable  show  of  embarrassment,  proceeded  to  ex- 
plain :  "  I — I  find  myself  obliged  to  warn  you,  gentlemen, 
inhospitable  as  it  seems,  that  Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp's  wine, 
what  with  age  and  the  richness  of  its  ingredients,  is  of  an 
unexampled  potency.  It  is  at  once  smooth  and  heady,  and — 
and  I  would  not  have  you  taken  at  unawares.  In  short,  boys," 
he  added  earnestly,  abandoning  his  formal  manner,  "  it's  the 
very  deuce  to  go  to  one's  head,  and  you  all  have  to  be  careful. 

Huddesley "    Again   that   invaluable   person   began   to 

circulate. 

Doctor  Vardaman  did  not  get  through  his  little  speech 
(which  he  delivered  in  a  style  quaintly  reminiscent  of  the 
after-dinner  orators  of  his  youth,  in  an  attitude  with  one 
hand  beneath  his  coat-tails)  without  some  uproarious  inter- 
ruptions ;  the  momentary  pause  that  followed  had  the  sur- 
prising effect  of  clearing  the  brain  of  at  least  one  in  his 
audience.  Whatever  the  others  felt,  J.  B.  suddenly  realised, 
as  he  afterwards  put  it,  that  "  he  had  reached  his  limit." 
He  knew  when  he'd  had  enough,  and  the  trepidation  visible  in 
the  doctor's  face  as  Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp's  wine  went  on 
its  devastating  way,  was  repeated  in  his  own.  If  the  truth 
were  known,  the  old  gentleman  had  been  congratulating  him- 
self on  bringing  off  what  he  considered  a  tolerably  clever 
coup  to  end  a  sitting  which  promised  disaster  to  some  of  the 
company;  and  doing  it  without  offence.  But  alas!  for  the 
best-laid  plans  of  mice  and  men!  The  catastrophe  had 
occurred;  some,  perhaps  most  of  the  men  were  a  little  the 
worse  for  liquor ;  a  few  minutes  of  cool  night  air  would  cure 
them ;  but  Teddy  Johns,  their  prime  performer,  the  peg  upon 
which  hung  all  their  hopes  of  success,  Teddy  was  hopelessly 
drunk.    No  night  air,  no  applications  of  crushed  ice  and  wet 


THE    TENANTS  241 

towels  would  cure  him.  Teddy  was  very  good-natured ;  he 
sang,  he  winked,  he  joked,  he  told  stories,  he  lavished  endear- 
ments on  his  "  frenge."  Even  in  his  worry,  the  doctor  found 
time  for  the  reflection  that  wine  in,  truth  out  is  the  most  solid 
of  maxims ;  liquor  puts  nothing  into  a  man's  nature  that  was 
not  there  already,  it  can  but  reveal  him  naked ;  and  if  he  will 
be  a  brute  in  his  cups,  it  is  odds  but  you  shall  find  him  a 
brute  at  heart  out  of  them.  There  was  nothing  brutal  about 
poor  Teddy ;  you  could  no  more  be  angry  with  him  than  with 
a  child.  Too  late  the  doctor  regretted  his  hospitality,  too  late 
he  lamented  the  love  of  good  cheer  and  youthful  company 
that  had  prompted  him  to  this  inordinate  abundance.  He  was 
in  the  frame  of  mind  to  write  a  temperance  tract ;  and  a  sar- 
castic grin  fled  across  his  features  as  he  pictured  what  that 
celebrity  of  his  earlier  years,  Mr.  T.  S.  Arthur,  would  have 
made  of  the  scene — the  moral  he  would  have  drawn  therefrom. 

Once  I  myself  had  the  privilege  of  tasting  the  wine  of 
Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp.  It  was  a  dark  and  heavy  liquor, 
pouring  like  oil,  rich  of  aroma,  searching  the  veins  with  sub- 
dued fire.  Perhaps  few  of  Doctor  Vardaman's  guests  could 
appreciate  that  marvellous  flavour;  at  any  rate  Teddy  was 
the  only  one  to  express  a  clamorous  approval : 

"  Pretty  goo'  for  ol'  Chickencoop !  Give  us  s'more,  Hud- 
desley!" 

And  Huddesley  stolidly  gave  him  some  more,  oblivious  to 
signs.  It  is  with  great  reluctance  that  this  historian  enters 
a  record  of  the  disgraceful  scene — but  the  thing  must  be 
done.  The  horrid  tale  of  Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp's  wine  can- 
not be  omitted.  Of  course,  no  man  who  reads  about  Doctor 
Vardaman's  banquet  has  ever  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to  get 
drunk,   not   even   when  he  was   a  boy;  he   always   had   the 


24£  THE    TENANTS 

strength  of  character  to  resist  that  beastly  temptation.  And 
any  woman  knows  very  well  that  instead  of  an  assemblage  of 
fairly  decent  and  manly  young  fellows,  the  doctor's  guests 
were  all  low,  swilling  louts  and  boors.  So  be  it ;  it  is  true 
that  they  turned  out,  as  years  went  on,  to  be  tolerable  citi- 
zens most  of  them,  good  husbands,  fathers  of  families  for 
whom  they  toiled  honestly  and  provided  handsomely — but 
all  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter  in  hand. 

J.  B.  bounced  up  with  great,  even  unnecessary  vigour,  cry- 
ing out :  "  Oh,  this  has  got  to  be  stopped — one  of  you  fellows 
take  it  away  from  him  !  " 

"  No  use  now,  Breck,"  said  Archie  dolefully.  "  That  jag 
will  last  till  morning." 

"  Jag  yourself !  "  said  Teddy  epigrammatically,  if  some- 
what indistinctly. 

"  Take  away  his  glass,  I  say !  " 

"  Shan't  either,"  said  Teddy,  grasping  it  unsteadily.  "  J. 
B.,  for  shame !  You're  drunk "  He  got  to  his  feet  waver- 
ing ;   everybody   was   up   by   this   time.     "  Doc'   Vardaman, 

'pol'gise — J.  B.'s  condition — sorry "     He  tried  to  carry 

the  glass  to  his  lips,  failed,  and  it  crashed  on  the  floor.  Teddy 
stood  swaying,  he  smiled  benevolently  upon  the  doctor, 
"  Sorry,"  he  murmured. 

"  Look  out !   Hold  him  up !  " 

"  Huddesley " 

"  Here — hold  on !  "    A  chair  went   over.    Huddesley 

sprang  to  the  rescue. 

"  Sorry,"  repeated  Teddy  sleepily,  "  lead  horsh  to  water 
— can't  make  him  stop  drinkin' — sorry."  He  drooped  on  Hud- 
desley's  shoulder. 

"  'Old  hup,  Mr.  Theodore,"  said  the  latter  amiably.  "  Lord ! 


THE    TENANTS  243 

'E  'as  'ad  a  leetle  too  much,  ain't  'e?  Never  mind,  gents,  Hi'll 
get  'im  hupstairs,  Hi've  'andled  'em  before." 

"  Here's  a  nice  how-de-do,  now  what's  to  be  done?  "  said 
J.  B.  despairingly  as  Teddy  was  dragged  off.  He  looked 
around  on  the  suddenly  sobered  and  very  shame-faced  group. 
Mr.  T.  S.  Arthur  could  not  have  pointed  a  moral  half  so  well 
as  did  the  spectacle  of  that  drunken  lad;  for  somehow  every 
man  there  felt  himself  at  fault. 

Dr.  Vardaman  was  not  a  little  downcast;  he  saw  himself 
in  the  unenviable  posture  of  an  old  Silenus,  leading  boys 
astray.  "  I  am  to  blame  for  this,  boys,"  he  said,  glancing 
about  in  genuine  distress.    "  I — I " 

"  No,  you  aren't,  Doctor,  we  were  all  taking  too  much," 
somebody  said.  "  And  we're  old  enough  to  know  better.  We 
ought  to  have  looked  out  for  Ted." 

"  What  I  want  to  know  is,  w^hat  are  we  going  to  do  now?  " 
repeated  J.  B.  And  in  the  silence  of  blank  looks  that  fol- 
lowed, Huddesley  came  back. 

"  'E'll  do  nicely  now,  gents,"  he  announced  cheerfully. 
"  Hi'll  go  hup  and  get  the  rest  of  'is  clothes  hoff  hafter  a 
while.  'E  was  a  leetle  fractious  habout  being'  hundressed, 
but  Hi  persuaded  'im  'e  was  goin'  to  put  on  'is  costoom  for 
4  William  Tell,'  and  'e  let  me  take  'is  coat  like  a  lamb." 

"  '  William  Tell,'  hey?  "  said  Archie  grimly.  "  It's  all  up 
with  '  William  Tell '  now." 

"  Sir?  "  said  Huddesley  aghast. 

"  Worse  than  that — it's  all  up  with  '  Mrs.  Tankerville,' 
too." 

"Five  minutes  to  nine!   We  ought  to  be  there  now." 

"Well,  we'll  just  have  to  tell  them  that  he's  been  taken 
sick " 


244  THE    TENANTS 

"  Everybody  knows  what  that  means,"  said  J.  B.  impa- 
tiently.  "  Might  as  well  tell  the  truth." 

"  Good  Lord!  What  will  the  girls  think?  And  Miss  Bax- 
ter, too — what  will  she  think?  What  will  everybody  say? 
We'll  never  hear  the  last  of  it !  Can't  anybody — can't  one  of 
you  fellows  take  his  part?   Here,  Ollie  Hunt — or  you,  Joe?  " 

Vain  hope !  "  I'm  doing  Gwynne  Peters'  part  as  it  is,"  said 
Joe,  helplessly.  A  hurried  canvass  revealed  the  dire  fact  that 
the  one  or  two  men  who  were  of  a  size  to  wear  the  dress  either 
were  already  provided  with  parts  of  too  much  importance  to 
be  left  out,  or  could  not  sing  the  music  allotted  to  Mrs. 
Gessler.  Nobody  remembered  the  dialogue  in  either  play ; 
but  that  was  a  small  matter,  if  only  someone  could  be  found, 
a  dummy,  a  straw  man,  anybody  to  appear  on  the  stage  and 
read  the  lines.  Things  looked  black — and  already  the  car- 
riages of  prompt  arrivals  were  beginning  to  roll  into  the 
Pallinder  gate. 

"  Couldn't  you  give  him  some  stuff — something  strong 
that  would  bring  him  around,  Doctor?  "  it  was  asked  as  the 
old  gentleman  returned  from  a  look  at  his  guest.  "  They 
won't  be  surprised  at  an  amateur  performance  being  late — 
and  an  hour  might  straighten  him  out." 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "  Nothing  I  know  of  in  the 
whole  range  of  medicine,"  said  he  briefly.  "  He's  sound 
asleep,  stupefied,  dead  drunk,  or  whatever  you  choose  to  call 
it — as  if  he'd  been  drugged.  Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp's  wine 
was  the  last  straw — terribly  strong  stuff." 

"  I  guess  there's  no  way  out  of  it — we'll  have  to  give  the 
thing  up  or  postpone  it,"  said  Archie  gloomily.  "  Nice 
job  for  the  Pallinders,  isn't  it?  Think  of  the  staging  and 
lights " 


THE    TENANTS  245 

"  And  the  house  all  floor-elothed  and  decorated " 

"  And  the  orchestra " 

"  Vm  waiting  to  hear  what  old  Botlisch  will  say,  that's 

all!" 

"  We'll  have  to  stand  from  under  when  she  begins,  I  guess." 
"  Can't  be  helped  now,  fellows,  we'll  have  to  take  our  medi- 
cine.  But  who's  going  to  tell  'em?  " 

"  Beg  parding,  Mr.  Breckinridge,  sir,  but  you  ain't  goin' 
to  give  hup  the  plays  on  haccount  of  Mr.  Theodore,  are 
you?  "  Huddesley  inquired  with  a  face  of  consternation. 

"  Have  to,  Huddesley,"  said  the  doctor.  "  There's  no  one 
to  take  his  place,  you  know." 

"  But,  beg  parding,  sir,  'ow'll  you  hexplain?  " 

"  Why,  somehow — anyhow — get  up  some  kind  of  story." 

"  Doctor  Vardaman,   sir,"   said  Huddesley,   wagging  his 

head  solemnly.    "  Murder  will  hout.    Wotever  story  you  get 

hup,  you'll  'ave — if  you'll  hexcuse  my  saying  it — you'll  'ave 

the  devil's  own  time." 

"  Well,  we've  thought  of  that,  but " 

"You  'aven't  thought  hof  heverything,  sir,"  said  Hud- 
desley in  a  melodramatic  undertone.  "  THE  PAPERS, 
sir!  "  (and  nothing  but  the  largest  capitals  will  express  the 
curdling  whisper  with  which  he  brought  out  the  words). 
"'HAWFUL  HORGIES  HAMONG  THE  FOUR  'UN- 
DRED !  PRIVATE  LIFE  OF  HEMINENT  PHYSICIAN 
REVEALED!  DAYS  HOF  HANCIENT  ROME  RE- 
CALLED! HEXTRY!  HALL  HABOUT  THE  SCAN- 
DAL IN  TGH  LIFE ! '  That's  what  it  will  be  sir,  as  sure 
as  fate ! "  His  face  and  gestures  were  vividly  pictorial ; 
headlines  such  as  he  suggested  in  letters  half-a-foot  high 
on  the  first  page  of  the  morning  journals  loomed  upon  every- 


246  THE    TENANTS 

one's  mental  vision.  J.  B.  looked  at  the  man  and  again 
suspicion  awoke  within  him. 

"  Any  editor  that  publishes  lies  like  that  will  get  a  horse- 
whipping," said  he  deliberately  (J.  B.  was  not  born  a  Ken- 
tuckian  for  nothing) .  "  And  if  any  story  of  the  kind  gets 
out,  the  man  that  starts  it  will  get  another.  If  you  want  to 
be  bought  off,  Huddesley,  you've  come  to  the  wrong  people." 

"  I  wasn't  thinking  of  that,  Mr.  Breckinridge,"  said  Hud- 
desley, cringing.     "  I  only  wanted  to  save  trouble." 

"  Save  trouble  how?  " 

"  Why,  if  it  isn't  presuming  too  much,  sir,  I — I  could  do 
Mr.  Johns'  parts,  I've  heard  him  often.  I  don't  want  to  be 
putting  myself  forward,  sir,  but  I  gave  him  some  suggestions 
about  the  business,  and  you  yourself  were  so  kind  as  to  say 
that  they  were  good  ones." 

J.  B.  and  the  doctor  stared  at  first  incredulously,  then  with 
a  glimmer  of  relief.  The  servant  was  plainly  in  desperate 
earnest.  His  forehead  was  wet,  there  was  colour  in  his  sal- 
low cheeks,  he  twisted  the  napkin  in  his  hands.  But  J.  B.,  as 
he  afterwards  confessed,  paid  little  enough  attention  to  the 
changes  in  Huddesley's  manner,  singular  as  they  were ;  he 
was  too  much  occupied  with  this  possible  way  out  of  their 
difficulty.  If  Huddesley  could  do  it,  the  day  might  yet  be 
saved.  No  one  but  the  performers  need  know  it ;  in  the  Mrs. 
Gessler  make-up  Teddy  was  unrecognisable  from  the  front, 
as  also  when  he  appeared  as  Jenks  the  butler  in  mutton- 
chop  sidewhiskers.  They  were  all  men  in  "  William  Tell " ; 
in  the  second  play,  his  role  would  not  bring  Huddesley  into 
offensive  contact  with  the  girls ;  they  would  have  to  be  told, 
but  trust  Mazie  Pallinder  to  carry  off  a  situation  like  that ! 
If   Huddesley   could   manage   to   get  through,   some  excuse 


THE    TENANTS  247 

could  be  found  for  his  non-appearance  afterwards ;  nobody 
would  suspect  anything,  and  when  the  truth  did  come  out, 
gossip  would  have  been  staved  off  for  a  little  while  at  least, 
and  people  rarely  halloo  long  on  a  cold  scent.  J.  B.  ques- 
tioned the  doctor  with  a  glance ;  then  called  to  the  others : 

"  I  say,  you  fellows,  come  here  a  minute,  I  want  to  talk 
about  something !  " 


CHAPTER    EIGHTEEN 

WHEN  I  meet  some  fellow-performer  in  the  Pall- 
inder  theatricals  nowadays  we  seldom  fail  to 
hark  back  to  that  noteworthy  occasion  before 
we  have  had  out  our  talk.  There  were  many  of 
us  and  we  have  since  scattered  wide  to  widely  differing  lives, 
yet,  I  think  for  most  this  episode  of  the  eighties  probably 
bulks  largest  in  the  dun  landscape  of  our  respectable  careers. 
This  is  no  tragedy ;  we  all  married — or  by  far  the  greater 
number  of  us — and  lived  happily  at  times,  at  times  unhappily, 
as  people  do,  ever  after.  But  we  never  came  nearer  to  ad- 
venture. Reviewing  that  night  with  a  friend,  I  am  always 
amazed  at  the  stirring  events  that  took  place  within  the 
notice  of  only  one  or  two  persons ;  we  each  cherish  a  different 
recollection.  So  much  seems  to  have  happened  to  us  in- 
dividually, it  is  after  all  not  surprising  that  something  tre- 
mendous should  have  happened  to  us  collectively.  Not  long 
since,  as  we  were  discussing  it  in  a  company,  someone  said: 
"  Wasn't  it  awful  when  I  fell  over  the  jardiniere  right  out 
by  the  footlights  ?  "  Nobody  else  remembered  the  shocking 
occurrence !  This  heroine  is  now  a  comfortable  matron  of 
forty-odd  with  two  daughters  at  Bryn  Mawr ;  she  has  a  hand- 
some establishment,  and  an  excellent  dressmaker ;  her  only 
anxiety,  I  believe,  is  her  youngest  son,  who  is  a  delicate  child. 
It  is  strange  to  think  of  this  sensible  middle-aged  woman,  who, 
like  all  the  rest  of  us,  has  lived  out  her  romance,  seen  the 
world,  suffered  who  knows  how  many  griefs  and  disappoint- 

248 


THE    TENANTS  249 

ments,  and  yet  had  her  share  of  happiness,  it  is  strange  to 
think  of  her  harbouring  all  these  years  the  stinging  memory 
of  how  she  fell  over  the  jardiniere.  The  mind  has  a  vexa- 
tious pet-animal  trick  of  picking  up  and  storing  away  triv- 
ialities ;  what  would  we  not  all  give  to  remember  what  is 
worth   remembering — and   to    forget ! 

I  said  we  were  many ;  for,  besides  the  cast  of  "  Tell," 
"  Mrs.  Tankerville's  Tiara "  demanded  a  practically  un- 
limited number  of  young  people  in  full  dress  for  the  ball- 
room scene.  I  have  since  suspected  that  Mazie,  the  diplo- 
matic, selected  the  play  for  that  very  reason.  She  asked  all 
the  debutantes,  and  every  one  else  who  was  "  anybody  " ;  and, 
no  matter  what  we  said,  we  were  all  sufficiently  tickled  to 
figure  so  publicly  in  a  new  dress,  even  if  only  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  in  what  I  have  seen  aptly  ticketed  a  "  thinking 
part."  Such  was  my  own,  and  I  was  divided  between  a  feel- 
ing of  relief  that  I  had  no  speeches  to  remember  and  deliver 
in  the  hollow  expectant  silence  of  the  audience-room,  and  an 
inward  conviction  that  had  I  been  cast  for  a  leading  role,  I 
should  have  done  much  better  than  anyone  else.  The  perform- 
ance was,  of  course,  late  in  beginning;  but  everybody  ex- 
pected that,  and  although  people  had  been  invited  for  nine, 
many  did  not  arrive  until  long  after.  To  this  day  I  can  re- 
member the  look  of  the  ballroom,1  very  high,  wide,  and 
chilly,  rows  of  empty  chairs  drawn  up  across  the  floor,  spirals 
of  smilax  twisted  around  the  pillars — it  was  a  hard  place  to 
decorate,  so  big  and  bare — and  Mrs.  Pallinder  erect  by  the 
door,  with  a  grove  of  potted  plants  behind  her.  She  had  to 
receive  by  herself,  as  Mazie  took  part  in  the  second  play,  and 

i  It  was  the  last  time  I  saw  it;  in  fact,  I  doubt,  on  thinking  it  over,  if 
any  of  us  were  ever  inside  the  old  Gwynne  house  again.— M.  S,  W. 


250  THE    TENANTS 

did  not  care  to  dull  the  effect  of  her  first  costume  by  letting 
it  be  seen  prematurely.  Mazie  had  a  fine  idea  of  dramatic 
proprieties,  and  a  certain  sense  of  climax.  The  colonel  did 
not  show  for  some  reason ;  I  believe  he  was  downstairs,  wel- 
coming the  men  as  they  came  in,  to  the  punchbowl  on  the  side- 
board. Mrs.  Botlisch  had  providentially  gone  to  bed  with 
a  bilious  attack;  she  had  entertained  us  with  a  particular 
account  of  her  symptoms,  remedies,  and  their  results  at  lunch- 
eon. So  Mrs.  Pallinder  received,  looking  rather  haggard,  I 
thought,  in  spite  of  her  rouge;  perhaps  it  was  because  she 
was  not  wearing  those  famous  diamonds,  and  one  missed  their 
generous  brilliance.  Jewels   were   eminently   suited   to   Mrs. 
Pallinder ;  her  fair  hair  and  clear  stone-grey  eyes  seemed  to 
gain  a  needed  lustre  from  her  necklaces  and  pendants,  and  she 
was  the  only  woman  I  ever  saw  who  could  wear  an  earring 
gracefully.  That  barbaric  ornament  set  her  ear  like  a  drop 
of  dew  on  the  petal  of  a  flower — there  was  no  hint  of  mutila- 
tion about  it ;  and  I  believe  she  could  have  sported  a  stud  in 
her  nostril  without  offence.  She  was  placed  to  the  utmost 
advantage;  her  delicately  classic  head  and  white  shoulders 
were  detached  upon  the  background  of  dark  foliage  with  a 
charming  cameo-like  effect.  But  she  was  all  one  faint  ex- 
quisitely-faded colour  in  an  ashes-of-roses  silk,  and  that  or 
something  else  more  subtle  made  her  look  strangely  older. 
She  had  surrendered  her  diamonds  with  many  playful-serious 
cautions  to    Mrs.    TanJcerville,    that    is,    Mazie;    and    that 
young  woman  was  decorating  her  languid  Oriental  person 
with  them  in  the  depths  of  her  den  of  rocking-chairs  and 
mirrors. 

The  Chorus  of  "  William  Tell "  arrived  a  long  while  ahead 
of  the  stars,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  were  dining  with  Doctor 


THE    TENANTS  251 

Vardaman.  Even  by  the  time  the  Chorus  had  finished  dress- 
ing— there  was  only  one  of  him,  as  I  believe  I  have  intimated 
elsewhere,  a  tall  fair  young  man,  who  wore  eye-glasses  in 
private  life  and  was  a  great  admirer  of  Mazie's, — the  rest 
of  the  cast  had  not  yet  put  in  an  appearance.  I  suppose  if 
we  could  have  known  what  was  going  forward  in  the  Swiss 
cottage  we  would  have  been  much  exercised ;  but  we  had  no 
apprehensions,  and  no  quick  means  of  communication,  if  any 
doubts  had  assailed  us.  Few  private  houses  had  a  telephone 
in  those  days,  not  even  the  Pallinders — which  was,  no  doubt, 
owing  in  large  part  to  the  inconvenient  habit  prevailing 
among  telephone-companies  from  the  earliest  times  of  de- 
manding quarterly  payments  in  advance,  and  removing  the 
instrument  if  they  were  not  forthcoming.  So  far  from  worry- 
ing, however,  we  found  some  pleasurable  excitement  in  the 
long  wait  behind  the  scenes,  and  stealthy  peeps  through  the 
eye-hole.  The  setting  for  "  Tell  "  was  the  same  throughout 
its  two  acts  as  I  recall,  a  Swiss  picture  with  Alps  in  the  back- 
ground, canvas  trees  and  foliage  to  the  front,  and  a  "  prac- 
ticable "  well  with  a  gigantic  sweep,  whence  they  brought  up 
pails  of  water  and  diluted  the  contents  of  TelVs  milk-cans 
— he  was  a  dairyman  in  the  burlesque;  this  was  the  Schacten- 
thal  Waterfall,  and  was  the  subject  of  many  noble  apos- 
trophes from  all  the  actors ;  even  Gessler  and  Jemmy  had 
something  to  say  about  it.  There  was  a  trap-door  in  the  floor 
of  the  stage  and  a  servant  stood  to  hand  up  buckets  as  they 
were  needed. 

"  Most  people,"  the  Chorus  remarked  to  me,  "  would  have 
had  to  put  up  a  lot  of  money  for  all  this.  The  colonel  got 
a  carpenter  from  the  Grand  Opera  House,  not  the  head  man, 
I  suppose,  but  some  second-best  fellow  they  could  spare,  to 


252  THE    TENANTS 

plan  and  oversee  it  all,  so  that  everything  would  be  safe. 
That's  the  man  over  there  now ;  he  told  me  the  bill  for  the 
lumber  alone  would  be  thirty-five  or  forty  dollars — and  it's 
good  for  nothing  but  kindling-wood  after  to-night,  you 
know." 

We  were  sitting  together  on  a  green  baise-covered  mound, 
very  much  in  the  way,  doubtless,  as  we  watched  the  men  get- 
ting things  in  position.  I  had  no  business  to  be  there  at  all, 
but  I  was  dressed  and  ready  for  my  part,  and  so  alive  with 
curiosity  and  excitement,  I  could  no  more  stay  in  one  place 
'  sedately  than  a  young  kitten  or  puppy.  The  stolid  profes- 
sionals at  work  on  the  scenery  endured  our  presence  on  the 
principle,  perhaps,  that  bids  us  to  suffer  fools  kindly. 

"The  Pallinders  must  be  awfully  well  off,"  I  said.  My 
companion  eyed  me  soberly.  The  Chorus  was  a  serious  and 
practical  young  fellow ;  at  the  present  time  he  is  conducting 
a  great  milling  business  somewhere  up  in  Michigan.  They 
make  two  or  three  kinds  of  breakfast-foods,  I  think,  and  have 
been  extraordinarily  successful.  But  we  were  not  dreaming 
of  that  the  night  we  perched  together  on  the  make-believe 
mound  behind  the  swaying  drop-curtain;  rather  must  his 
thoughts  have  been  occupied  with  Mazie  Pallinder,  her  long 
serpentine  figure,  and  sprightly  drawl.  For  I  noticed  how  his 
eyes  wandered  constantly  in  the  direction  whence  she  might 
appear. 

"  I  wish  the  boys  would  get  here,"  he  said,  wrinkling  his 
brows.  "It's  half-after  already.  They're  beginning  to 
crowd  in  pretty  thick — last  time  I  looked  all  the  first  fifteen 
rows  were  taken.  Is — ah — is  Miss  Pallinder  going  to  come 
and  help  her  mother  receive?  I  didn't  see  her.  But  if  she  is, 
I — ah — I  really  ought  to  go  and  speak  to  them.*' 


THE    TENANTS  253 

He  coloured  furiously  at  the  mere  mention  of  her  name; 
and  it  struck  me  as  exquisitely  humorous  that  his  goddess 
was  probably  at  that  instant  producing  just  such  a  blush  on 
her  own  well-tried  cheeks  by  what  mysterious  agency!  Pink 
nail-paste  and  talcum-powder  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it, 
I  believe. 

"  She  isn't  there,  and  you  shouldn't  go  in  costume  anyhow. 
Nobody  ought  to  be  seen  beforehand — Mazie  says  so.  She's 
all  dressed  and  sitting  in  her  room  until  '  Mrs.  Tankerville,' 
begins.  How  did  it  happen  you  didn't  go  to  dinner  at  Doctor 
Vardaman's  with  the  others  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  had  to  go  down  to  the  train  to  meet  Susie ;  she's 
coming  on  from  New  Haven  with  the  two  children  to  make  us 
a  visit.  Her  train  was  due  at  eight,  but  it's  five  hours  late — 
stalled  at  a  washout  just  this  side  of  Pittsburgh,  the  fellow 
at  the  ticket-office  told  me.  He  said  all  the  Pan-Handle  and 
B.  &  O.  trains  were  coming  in  anywhere  from  one  to  nine 
hours  behind  the  schedule- time.  Freshets,  you  know;  the 
Ohio's  on  a  boom.  They're  having  an  awful  time  in  Cin- 
cinnati, they  say,  biggest  flood  in  years.  There,  isn't  that 
J.  B.'s  voice?  " 

I  beat  a  hasty  retreat  for  Mazie's  room,  where  the  entire 
feminine  cast  of  "  Mrs.  Tankerville  "  was  by  this  time  col- 
lected. We  had  to  be  bestowed  in  some  place  where  we  could 
talk  in  safety ;  and  no  talking  could  be  allowed  "  behind  " 
while  the  plays  were  in  progress,  even  such  a  scatter-brained 
crew  as  we  were,  knew  that.  But  from,  time  to  time  one  of  us 
would  steal  out  to  the  wings,  watch  the  familiar  antics,  listen 
to  the  familiar  jokes  a  while,  and  bring  back  a  report.  I 
believe  we  enjoyed  this  excited  hour  or  two  more  than  any- 
thing that  went  before  or  after.  In  Mazie's  room  the  gas 


254  THE    TENANTS 

flared  high ;  the  chairs,  the  lounge,  the  bed  were  heaped  with 
finery.  We  pulled  a  big  pink  silk  screen  in  front  of  the  door 
so  that  the  arriving  audience,  taking  off  its  wraps  in  the 
other  bedrooms,  might  not  see  us.  There  was  a  green-room 
atmosphere  (we  thought)  of  flowers,  candy,  perfume,  acid 
gossip;  and  now  and  again  we  could  hear  one  of  the  men 
rushing  through  the  hall  outside  to  their  quarters  in  the 
wing,  for  a  change  of  clothes;  or  a  thunderous  burst  of 
laughter,  "  like  a  dam  giving  away,"  Kitty  said,  when  the 
dining-room  door  in  the  hall  below  swung  open. 

"  It's  going  all  right,"  she  reported,  returning  from  one 
of  these  expeditions  with  very  bright  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks. 
She  looked  distractingly  neat  and  coquettish  in  her  black 
frock,  cap,  and  short  ruffled  apron  as  the  maid;  and  I  was 
afterwards  told  that  one  of  the  men  had  caught  and  kissed 
her  in  a  dark  corner  behind  the  prompter's  chair.  They  all 
seemed  to  be  in  wonderfully  high  spirits.  "  Only  it's  so  funny 
the  audience  sometimes  laugh  in  places  where  we  didn't  ex- 
pect 'em  to  at  all !  You  ought  to  see  J.  B.  Taylor.  He  looks 
perfectly  immense  in  that  kilt ;  I  didn't  know  he  was  such  a 
big  man ;  great  big  round  pink  arms  like  this !  And  the  kilt 
kind  of  peaks  down  right  in  the  middle  of  the  back ;  Harry 
Smith  called  him  Doctor  Mary  Walker ;  and  Gessler  said  he 
ought  to  have  a  bustle — right  out  loud  so  that  the  people 
could  hear!  They  call  that  gagging  the  part."  She  sent  a 
glance  of  sparkling  malice,  suggestive,  somehow,  of  a  file 
of  small  new  pins,  toward  Muriel.  "  J.  B.'s  the  silliest — you 
can't  help  laughing  to  save  your  life." 

"Did  they  laugh  at  Teddy?" 

"Like  everything!  He's   a  little  husky,   or   else   it's   too 
much  dinner,  his  voice  sounds  kind  of  queer,  but  I  guess  that 


THE    TENANTS  255 

will  wear  off  in  a  minute."  She  added  in  a  rapid  whisper,  as 
Mazie's  back  was  turned,  "  Girls,  it's  rich!  He's  got  himself 
up  to  look  about  as  fat  as  Mrs.  Botlisch  in  an  old  gingham 
wrapper  without  corsets,  you  know,  and  he's  sort  of  taking 
her  off,  he's  simply  splendid,  people  just  roll  over  and  laugh 
every  time  he  opens  his  mouth." 
"Is  Doctor  Vardaman  there?" 

"What,  behind?  No.  He's  not  here  at  all,  one  of  the 
men  told  me.  He  had  to  go  and  sit  up  with  some  sick  person, 
or  something.  Don't  you  want  to  see  J.  B.,  Muriel?  ' 

"  No,"  said  Muriel  flatly.  She  was  looking  acutely  dis- 
tressed, like  a  large  sorrowing  Madonna.  "  I  think  Mr.  Johns 
must  look  a  great  deal  sillier,"  she  said  with  a  kind  of  defiance. 
"Or  that  other — what  is  his  name? — the  one  that  pretends 
to  be  the  Chorus,  just  one  of  him — he's  very  silly! " 
"  How  is  Bob  doing  ?  "  Mazie  asked. 

Bob  was  the  Chorus.  He  was  no  actor ;  but  the  part  only 
required  someone  with  a  voice,  and  he  had  a  really  beautiful 
high  sweet  tenor.  All  he  must  do  was  to  appear  in  season  and 
out  of  season  and  jodel,  which  he  did  to  admiration,  with  a 
perfectly  grave  face,  for  as  I  have  said,  he  was  of  a  sober  dis- 
position, and  to  tell  the  truth  saw  nothing  comic  in  it.  But 
about  the  seventh  or  eighth  jodel  the  audience  fell  into 
paroxysms  of  laughter  and  so  continued  whenever  the  Chorus 
came  on.  Bob  made  one  of  the  hits  of  the  evening,  to  his  own 
great  confusion  and  the  frank  surprise  of  everyone  else  in 
the  cast. 

"  Bob?  Oh,  all  right.  But  that's  one  of  the  things  they're 
laughing  at ;  isn't  that  funny  ?  " 

"  Why  not,  if  he's  funny?  "  said  Muriel,  puzzled. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  funny  that  way,  you  know,  I  mean 


256  THE    TENANTS 

funny.  Why  don't  you  come  and  look  on  a  while,  Maze? 
Bob'll  do  better  if  you're  there."        • 

"  Oh,  I  guess  I  don't  care  to,"  said  Mazie  with  indolent 
emphasis.  "  I'd  tear  my  dress  or  something.  It's  all  full 
of  ropes  and  nails  and  pegs  behind  there."  She  leaned  back 
in  her  rocker,  contemplating  the  sweeping  breadths  of  her 
dull  red  silk  train,  spangled  with  jets;  the  front  of  her  low 
corsage  darted  light  from  innumerable  facets  of  jet  and 
diamonds.  In  the  absence  of  an  actual  tiara,  her  mother's 
diamond  necklace  had  been  fastened  on  a  symmetrical  frame 
of  silver  wire,  and  gleamed  abroad  from  Mazie's  dead-black 
hair,  arranged  in  a  forest  of  bangs.  Without  a  single  pretty 
feature,  she  wrought  a  curious  illusion  of  dark  and  brilliant 
beauty;  and  Kitty  gave  her  the  tribute  of  an  unwilling  ad- 
miration. A  girl,  and  not  a  handsome  girl  at  that,  who  was 
too  lazy  or  too  stiff-necked  to  walk  half-a-dozen  steps  to 
show  herself  when  she  was  looking  her  best  to  a  man,  who  as 
we  all  knew  was  in  love  with  her,  and  who  would  be  no  poor 
match  either — such  a  girl,  I  say,  commanded  all  the  respect 
of  which  Kitty's  small  soul  was  capable. 

Then  I  adventured  again,  alone ;  and  harvested  a  sensation. 
For,  while  I  was  standing  in  the  left  wings,  between  two 
blocks  of  scenery,  with  my  skirts  furled  as  close  as  the  fashion 
of  the  day  would  allow,  to  avoid  casual  tacks,  Teddy  Johns 
came  off,  followed  by  a  gratifying,  yet  somehow  a  little  awe- 
some, burst  of  applause.  He  stood  close  beside  me  breathing 
hard,  for  his  humour  was  largely  acrobatic,  and  dabbing  the 
perspiration  from  his  forehead  and  cheeks  with  a  corner  of 
handkerchief,  daintily  so  as  not  to  mar  his  paint.  And  the 
audience  clamoured  a  recall.  I  suppose  there  were  not  more 
than  a  couple  of  hundred  people  in  the  ballroom,  yet  the  noise 


THE    TENANTS  257 

they  made  was  deafening  in  so  contracted  a  space ;  there  was 
something  formidable  and  pitiless  in  that  great  insistent 
voice.  Sudden  comprehension  of  what  stage-fright  might  be 
came  to  me,  and  I  looked  at  Teddy  with  admiring  wonder. 
What  must  it  be  to  face  that  hydra  of  a  creature,  that  thing 
of  many  souls  fused  into  one  unthinkable  whole  out  there  be- 
yond the  footlights ! 

"Weren't  you  frightened?"  I  whispered. 
He  turned  towards  me — and  it  was  not  Teddy  Johns  at  all ! 
It  was  a  man  I  had  never  seen  before. 

I  was  so  startled  I  could  only  gasp  and  stutter ;  the  light 
was  good  enough,  yet  I  thought  it  must  have  misled  me,  and 
peered  into  his  face  anxiously,  expecting  his  familiar  chuckle. 
His  features  were  a  mask  of  paint,  apparently  laid  on  at 
random,  but  as  I  know  now,  with  real  skill  and  knowledge  of 
effect;  he  wore  false  eyebrows  and  a  wig  with  a  grotesque 
"  slat  "  sunbonnet  pushed  halfway  off,  and  held  by  the  strings 
knotted  under  his  chin.  His  body  was  padded  shapelessly. 
And  while  I  strove  to  find  Teddy  under  this  disguise,  he  sud- 
denly bestowed  on  me  a  grin  so  vicious  and  repellent,  that  I 
almost  screamed  aloud.  Whether  that  expression  of  amuse- 
ment was  involuntary  on  Huddesley's  part,  or  whether  he 
feigned  it  out  of  deliberate  deviltry,  I  have  often  wondered. 
I  must  have  uttered  some  sort  of  queer  noise,  for  he  said  in  a 
biting  whisper :  "  Hold  your  tongue,  you — fool !  "  and  in  the 
same  breath  was  back  on  the  stage,  bowing  to  the  tumult. 
He  made  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  a  sign,  the  instruments 
crashed  out  the  opening  bars  of  his  song,  and  he  began  over 
again. 

I  did  not  faint  or  go  into  hysterics,  for  I  was  a  healthy 
and  after  all  a  tolerably  sensible  young  woman ;  but  it  is  im- 


258  THE    TENANTS 

possible  to  convey  any  idea  of  my  bewilderment.  Fortunately 
it  lasted  only  a  moment  or  so.  Huddesley  made  his  second  exit 
to  the  right,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  maybe ;  and  the  Chorus, 
crossing  the  stage,  stationed  himself  in  the  wings  almost  at 
my  side,  that  he  might  be  heard  jodeling  "off,"  in  stage- 
phrase. 

"  No,  that  isn't  Teddy,"  he  whispered,  in  answer  to  my  ex- 
cited murmur.  "  Yo-de-la-7i^-7*o/ — Teddy's  sick,  that's  the 
doctor's  man — La-he,  la-he,  la-he,  ho! — Huddesley,  you 
know;  they  got  him  to  take  Ted's  place,  mighty  lucky  he 
can,  too — Yo-de-la-7i^-ho,  yo-de-la-a-a !  " 


CHAPTER    NINETEEN 

DOCTOR  VARDAMAN  viewed  the  departure  of 
his  guests  with  mingled  relief  and  chagrin ;  the 
evening  had  not  ended  quite  according  to  his  ex- 
pectations, and  he  could  not  decide  whether  the 
disaster  was  his  fault  or  theirs ;  perhaps  on  the  whole,  they 
were  lucky  the  outcome  was  no  worse.  The  young  men  of  this 
generation  lacked  the  self-control  or  the  physical  fibre  of 
their  sires,  he  told  himself  irritably;  and  then  a  queer  smile 
twitched  his  lips  as  he  remembered  his  own  father  saying 
the  same  thing.  To  every  age  its  own  faults,  and  also  its  own 
standards  of  judging  them.  In  his  day  people  used  to  speak 
tolerantly  enough  of  a  man  who  drank;  it  was  held  a  con- 
temptible, but  hardly  a  disgraceful  weakness.  Are  we  grown 
better,  or  only  more  prudent?  We  go  to  church  less,  but  we 
certainly  bathe  a  deal  oftener.  The  creed  of  keeping  one's 
health  is  no  such  poor  creed,  when  all  is  said;  a  man  will 
diet  to  save  his  mortal  body  with  twice  the  vigour  and  con- 
viction that  he  will  pray  to  save  his  immortal  soul — and  who 
shall  say  that  it  is  not  right,  or  at  least  expedient  for  him  to 
do  so?  For  after  all  the  health  of  his  soul  is  his  own  affair, 
but  the  health  of  his  body  vitally  concerns  the  welfare  of 
others.  Thus  the  doctor,  moralising  a  little  far  afield  from 
the  events  of  the  evening ;  and  he  shrewdly  suspected  that  to 
the  rest  of  the  young  fellows,  Ted's  drunkenness  was  not  so 
unforgivable  an  offence  in  itself,  except  for  the  monstrous 
inconvenience  of  it.  "  And  I  am  afraid  I  am  responsible  for 

259 


260  THE    TENANTS 

that,"  he  said  with  half  a  sigh.  "  If  I  had  married  and 
brought  up  a  family,  I  should  have  known  better  how  to 
manage  the  lads.  Eh,  Louise?  "  He  uttered  the  last  words 
aloud  with  a  pensive  glance  at  his  Labrador-stones,  and 
started  at  the  eerie  sound  of  his  own  voice  raised  in  senti- 
mental monologue  beside  his  empty  hearth.  "  I'm  getting 
maudlin  myself,  now !  "  he  thought,  and  went  to  close  the  hall 
door  swaying  and  creaking  dismally  in  a  rush  of  damp,  chilly 
air.  It  was  raining  pitilessly;  it  had  rained  for  nearly  two 
weeks.  The  doctor,  standing  in  his  doorway,  beheld  the 
arrowy  slant  of  water  shining  against  the  dark  where  the  hall 
light  irradiated  it;  amongst  the  irregularities  of  his  brick- 
paved  walk  small  puddles  showed  an  unsteady  glistening  sur- 
face. The  bushes  in  half-leaf  on  either  side  drooped  and 
shone.  Farther  away  there  was  an  incessant  rumour  of 
wheels,  and  he  was  aware  of  the  measured  approach  and 
passage  of  carriage-lamps  in  pairs,  directed  toward  the 
Pallinder  gate.  Doctor  Vardaman  watched  them  absently  for 
some  time,  while  the  swift  wind  refreshed  his  house;  then  he 
remembered  Teddy,  whom  he  had  refused  to  leave  alone, 
slammed  the  door  and  went  upstairs. 

The  young  man  was  sleeping  heavily,  spread  out  upon  the 
doctor's  staid  old  four-post  bed;  not  in  years,  if  ever,  had 
that  respectable  piece  of  furniture  witnessed  such  a  spectacle, 
and  the  doctor  had  a  quaint  fancy  that  it  withdrew  itself 
shudderingly  from  the  contamination.  It  had  been  his 
mother's,  and  a  kind  of  feminine  severity  appeared  in  its 
starched  and  ruffled  valance,  as  of  indignant  petticoats.  He 
leaned  over  and  scanned  Teddy's  face,  holding  his  own  chin 
in  his  hand,  with  knotted  brows ;  then  he  felt  the  sleeper's 
pulse,  listened  to  his  thick  breathing,  shook  his  head  with  a 


THE    TENANTS  261 

perplexed  look,  and  began  mechanically  to  gather  up  the 
clothes  thrown  here  and  there  about  the  room.  He  went  back 
and  surveyed  the  bed  again.  "  Very  strange,"  said  Doctor 
Vardaman.  And  again  :  "  Very  strange !  " 

He  went  downstairs,  and,  not  without  a  sardonic  grin, 
brought  up  a  pitcher  of  ice-water,  and  placed  it  in  readiness 
on  the  little  old  mahogany  candle-stand  at  the  sufferer's 
right  hand.  The  dining-room  was  a  woeful  picture  as  he  re- 
entered it.  In  the  middle  of  the  table,  the  pyramid  of  jellies 
and  cream  had  partly  dissolved  and  trickled  down  to  mix 
with  a  waste  of  crumbled  cake,  cigar-stumps  and  ashes,  nut- 
shells, soiled  napkins,  shattered  china — the  doctor  sat  down 
amid  the  desolation,  likening  himself  to  Marius  among  the 
ruins  of  Carthage.  There  was  a  dreary  odour — an  odour? 
A  stench,  Doctor  Vardaman  vigorously  characterised  it — of 
stale  wine,  stale  coffee,  stale  tobacco.  Fragments  of  cheese 
swam  in  pudding-sauce;  spent  bottles  cumbered  the  side- 
board; the  door  was  open  into  the  kitchen,  affording  a  vista 
of  plates  piled  in  tottering  heaps,  pots  and  pans  crowded 
on  the  cold  range,  a  bowl  of  dishwater  crowned  with  scum  in 
the  sink,  half-eaten  meats  and  vegetables  stiffening  grimly  in 
lakes  of  discoloured  gravy.  "  Faugh ! "  said  the  doctor  in 
strong  distaste,  and  closed  the  door  on  the  depressing  scene. 
He  sat  down  in  his  place  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Huddesley 
would  have  a  job  of  cleaning  up  this  squalid  hole  on  the  mor- 
row, he  thought,  and  wondered  how  the  man  was  getting  on 
in  his  new  sphere;  smiled,  too,  as  he  reflected  that  the  dream 
of  Huddesley's  life  was  being  fulfilled.  He  had  wanted  to  be 
a  "  hactor,"  and  indeed  he  had  some  turn  that  way,  poor 
creature!  It  was  strange  to  think  how  unequally  the  gifts 
of  Fate  are  distributed :  now  there  was  Huddesley,  an  honest 


262  THE    TENANTS 

man,  not  at  all  a  dull  man,  who,  if  he  had  been  born  in  any 
class  but  the  servant  class,  even  in  a  less  respectable  one, 
might  have  made  more  of  himself!  That  inherited  attitude 
of  servility  was  a  greater  bar  to  his  advancement  than  dul- 
ness  or  vice ;  in  America  it  might  have  been  different ;  we  have 
no  definite  classes,  and  no  traditions  of  behaviour.  But  in 
England  a  man  who  habitually  says  "  sir,"  and  drops  his 
h's — here  the  old  gentleman  came  bolt  upright  in  his  chair, 
upon    a    sudden    moving    recollection.    Huddesley    had    not 
dropped    a    single    h    nor    added    one    on,    since    assuming 
Teddy's  character !  During  all  the  talk  that  had  followed  his 
proposal,  and  when  he  had  hurriedly  recited  for  them  a  num- 
ber of  Teddy's  speeches,  his  accent  had  nowise  differed  from 
their  own.  The  fact,  noted  in  some  obscure  corner  of  the 
doctor's  brain,  now  in  the  silence  of  the  vacant  room,  ob- 
truded itself  with  an  unwelcome  insistence.  It  was  a  slight 
thing,  yet  of  a  curious  significance ;  a  person  could  not  thus 
at  will  abandon  the  habit  of  a  lifetime.  Say  it  were  not  such 
a  habit,  what  then?  Why,  then  the  dialect  was  put  on,  like 
a  garment;  and  for  what  reason?  If  that  was  the  case,  Hud- 
desley was  by  far  too  much  of  a  "  hactor  "  to  be  officiating 
in  the  doctor's  kitchen.  We  do  not  look  for,  nor  somehow 
relish  so  much  versatility  in  one  of  Huddesley's  degree.  Doc- 
tor Vardaman's  thoughts  hardly  proceeded  in  so  orderly  a 
sequence  as  they  have  been  here  set  down,  but  by  vague  specu- 
lative turns  and  windings  they  reached  the  last  conclusion. 
He  began  uncomfortably  to  review  the  manner  of  his  engag- 
ing Huddesley,  and  was  startled  to  realise  how  little  he  ac- 
tually knew  of  the  man,  how  haphazard  had  been  his  methods 
of  hiring  servants.   "  I'll  write  to  that  Lord  Whatever-his- 
name-was  to-morrow,"  he  told  himself — and  then  had  to  smile 


THE    TENANTS  263 

a  little  at  this  access  of  belated  caution.  The  whole  thing,  of 
course,  was  capable  of  some  very  simple  explanation,  he 
thought  impatiently,  unwilling  to  own  himself  baffled;  there 
was  not  necessarily  a  dark,  bloody  mystery  about  a  person's 
speaking  in  dialect  one  moment  and  in  the  queen's  English 
the  next.  It  might  be  that  Huddesley  was  the  exiled  black 
sheep  of  some  decent,  even  gentle  family — well,  perhaps,  not 
a  black  sheep,  but  at  least  a  brindled  one,  not  good  enough 
for  the  station  to  which  he  had  been  born,  too  good  for  that 
to  which  he  had  sunk;  stranger  things  than  that  have  hap- 
pened. He  had  told  a  perfectly  straight  story ;  even  if  it  were 
an  invention,  that,  so  long  as  the  man  behaved  himself,  was 
no  concern  of  Doctor  Vardaman's.  "  And  when  he  misbe- 
haves," said  the  doctor  inwardly,  "  why,  then,  like  Dogberry, 
I'll  let  him  go,  and  thank  God  I  am  rid  of  a  knave !  I  don't 
believe  he  is  a  knave,  but  certainly  I've  always  had  an  idea 
he  was  no  ordinary  man.  Maybe  I'd  better  have  a  talk  with 
him  to-morrow." 

Now  that  suspicion,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  accurate 
to  say,  a  kind  of  doubting  curiosity,  had  been  aroused  in  the 
doctor's  mind,  it  would  not  down ;  a  dozen  instances  of  slips 
or  inconsistencies  in  Huddesley's  conduct  thronged  upon  him. 
He  sat  a  long  while,  frowning  in  uncomfortable  recollection ; 
then  got  up  at  last,  and  halfway  to  the  mantelpiece  to  get 
a  cigar,  paused  again  in  puzzled  meditation  with  his  gaze  on 
the  floor.  At  his  feet  there  lay  the  broken  bits  of  Teddy's 
final  glass  in  a  sticky  morass  of  Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp's 
wine,  that  calamitous  beverage,  seeped  into  the  nap  of  the 
carpet.  Doctor  Vardaman  gathered  up  the  largest  pieces  gin- 
gerly, and  tried  to  fit  them  together ;  that  set  of  glasses  had 
been  his  mother's  when  she  went  to  housekeeping.  It  was 


264  THE    TENANTS 

beyond  mending,  however,  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  tossing 
the  shards  into  a  waste-basket,  when  a  fresh  discovery 
restrained  him.  He  sniffed  at  them,  sniffed  his  fingers,  got 
down  on  all-fours  and  laboriously  sniffed  the  stained  carpet. 
He  rose ;  "  Teddy  didn't  drink  that  glass,"  he  said  aloud. 
"  He  only  drank  the  first  one  Huddesley  gave  him.  But  he 
had  been  drinking  all  evening."  He  smelled  at  some  other 
glasses  standing  near  the  young  man's  place,  but  apparently 
could  make  nothing  of  them.  He  went  hesitatingly  toward 
the  door  of  a  little  room  opening  upon  the  hall,  and  at  the 
very  threshold  wavered  in  indecision.  "  Oh,  this  is  all  fool- 
ishness," he  said.  "  How  could  Huddesley — what  possible 
motiVe ?  "  He  opened  the  door.  It  was  a  dark,  window- 
less  place,  little  more  than  a  closet,  which  the  doctor  had  put 
to  all  sorts  of  uses,  experimenting  with  chemicals,  photo- 
graphic plates,  raising  mushrooms,  the  hundred-and-one  de- 
vices of  industrious  idleness.  Everything  there  was  in  a  kind 
of  handy  masculine  disorder,  and  he  often  boasted  that  he 
could  go  there  in  the  dark  and  pick  up  whatever  he  wanted 
without  a  moment's  hesitation.  But  now  he  struck  a  match, 
and  ran  an  anxious  eye  along  the  shelves ;  he  breathed  a  little 
freer  when  he  discerned  the  bottle  he  sought  in  its  accus- 
tomed place  with  contents  undisturbed;  it  was  colourless 
stuff.  "  All  fancy !  I'm  getting  as  notional  as  an  old  woman," 
he  said  to  himself,  and  was  turning  away,  when  some  second 
thought  prompted  him  to  reach  the  bottle  down  from  the 
shelf.  His  match  had  gone  out;  the  doctor  went  into  the 
parlour,  where  all  the  gas-jets  were  burning  wastefully  high, 
and  some  red  tulips  he  had  bought  that  afternoon  to  decorate 
his  banquet  flagged  miserably  in  the  old  French  china  vases. 
He   deliberately    removed    the    cork,    smelled   it,    hesitated, 


THE    TENANTS  265 

touched  the  bottle  to  his  tongue.  "Well,  I'll  be ,"  he 

ejaculated,  facing  his  own  pale  and  perturbed  image  in  the 
old-fashioned  gilt  mantel-glass. 

Doctor  Vardaman  did  not  finish  saying  what  he  would  be, 
but  with  a  mechanical  precision,  poured  the  rest  of  the  liquid 
into  a  vase  of  tulips.  "  There  wasn't  enough  there  to  hurt 
him,"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "  I  thought  he  didn't  seem  like  a 
plain  drunk  somehow.  He'll  be  pretty  sick  when  he  comes  to, 
but  he'd  be  that  anyway."  He  sought  a  cigar,  and  sat  down 
by  the  tireless  grate  with  his  hands  on  his  knees.  "  The  ques- 
tion is,  what  next?"  said  he.  "What  is  the  bottom  of  all 
this?  And  what  on  earth  ought  I  to  do?  " 

The  old  gentleman  smoked  his  cigar  out  with  his  queries 
unanswered,  and  sat  staring  intently  at  the  mantel-board,  his 
mind  travelling  up  and  down  in  a  fog  of  doubt  and  futile 
conjecture.  The  mantel-board  exactly  fitted  the  opening  of 
the  fireplace,  and  was  covered  with  pale  green  wall-paper, 
having  an  arabesque  border  in  white  and  gold  all  around  the 
edges,  and  in  the  middle  a  design  of  a  Watteau  gentleman 
and  lady  kissing  beside  a  fountain  at  the  foot  of  a  flight  of 
marble  steps  with  a  temple  in  the  background.  Clouds,  roses, 
swans,  butterflies  and  turtle-doves  contributed  to  the  scene, 
and  on  a  ribbon  scroll  beneath  one  read :  "Dolce  far  niente." 
It  was  an  interesting  mantel-board  and  at  least  fifty  years 
old.  The  doctor  stared  so  long  and  so  hard  that  presently  he 
experienced  no  surprise  at  finding  himself  on  his  way  to  morn- 
ing-service at  the  temple  with  a  bunch  of  tulips  in  one  hand 
and  a  bottle  of  Mynheer  Van  der  Cuyp's  wine  labelled  some- 
what erratically  "CAUTION.  POISON.  Antidote,  very 
strong  blade  coffee"  in  the  other.  He  was  obliged  to  take 
passage  in  a  boat  with  old  Mrs.  Botlisch,  and  when  Huddes- 


266  THE    TENANTS 

ley  came  around  to  collect  the  fare,  discovered  to  his  mild  an- 
noyance that  he  had  omitted  to  put  on  his  trousers — a  lapse 
from  conventionality  which  nobody  else  noticed,  however, 
There  arose  a  terrific  storm  of  thunder  mainly,  and  someone 

began  to  be  very  seasick — and — and 

And  then  the  doctor  waked  up,  with  a  jerk  and  the  well- 
known  but  perfectly  indefinable  feeling  of  lateness  in  the  air. 
He  looked  around  blinking.   Certain  dismal  sounds  from  the 
bedroom  overhead  accounted  for  one  feature  of  his  dream, 
and  a   fusillade  of  knocks  on  the  front  door  supplied  the 
thunder.  "Why,  I  believe  I've  been   asleep!"   said  Doctor 
Vardaman,  slowly  collecting  his  faculties.  A  pause,  and  then 
more  knocking;  voices  muttered  together,  feet  went  to  and 
fro  on  his  porch,  somebody  fumbled  for  the  bell-handle,  struck 
a  match  and  found  it,  and  directly  the  bell  sent  forth  a  shat- 
tering broadside  of  sound  in  the  waste  and  deserted  kitchen. 
"  I'm  coming !  "  shouted  the  doctor,  adding  a  brief  anathema 
under  his  breath,  and  went  to  the  door.  Outside  the  rain  had 
ceased,  but  a  wet  wind  shook  and  tip-toed  among  the  trees. 
There  was  a  ghostly  twilight  abroad;  it  was  possible  dimly 
to  descry  the  outlines  of  the  landscape.  Stationary  before 
his  gate  the  lamps  of  a  carriage  burned  dimly.  It  was  dawn ! 
The  doctor  repressed  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and  turned 
to  his  visitors.  There  were  three  of  them ;  one  was  a  police- 
man in  a  shining  waterproof  cape-coat;  he  was  a  head  and 
shoulders  above  the  others,  and  stood  back  from  them  defer- 
entially as  one  in  the  presence  of  his  superiors.   Before  a  word 
was  spoken  Doctor  Vardaman  observed  confusedly  that  all 
three  drew  together,  and  closed  up  in  front  of  the  opening 
door,  and  the  policeman  shortened  his  grasp  on  the  baton  he 
carried. 


THE    TENANTS  267 

"  Somebody  hurt?  "  inquired  the  doctor,  following  up  the 
first  idea  suggested  by  this  apparition.  He  was  met  by  a 
counter  question. 

"Doctor  Vardaman?"  said  the  foremost.  The  doctor 
;  looked  at  him.  He  was  a  commonplace  man  in  commonplace 
clothes,  stoutly-built  and  active,  with  rather  hard  features 
and  quick  black  eyes.  The  other  might  have  been  his  twin, 
save  for  a  certain  youthfulness  in  his  alert  gaze ;  he  leaned 
against  the  door-post  chewing  the  fag  end  of  a  dead  cigar. 
There  was  a  vague  hostility  in  the  appearance  of  these  people ; 
in  the  unbecoming  light  of  early  morning,  everyone  wore  a 
haggard  and  unkempt  air,  except  the  burly  fresh-faced 
policeman  in  his  trim  wet-weather  gear. 

"  I  am  Doctor  Vardaman,"  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  Is 
anyone  hurt  or  sick?  " 

"  No,  it's  all  right,  Doc,  take  it  easy,  nobody's  needin' 
you,"  said  the  first  speaker.  "  Sorry  to  knock  you  up  this 
time  o'  night,  but  it  couldn't  be  helped.  If  my  train  had  'a' 
got  in  on  time,  I'd  V  been  here  not  much  after  supper ;  but 
we're  just  in,  I  come  right  up  from  the  deepo.  I  gotta  hump 
myself,  or  I  wouldn't  'a'  thought  o'  disturbin'  you.  Here's 
my  card.   Say,  you  got  a  man  named  Huddesley,  ain't  you?  " 

"  Huddesley?  "  echoed  the  doctor,  in  helpless  bewilderment. 
During  the  above  speech,  which  had  been  delivered  in  a  brisk, 
authoritative,  but  carefully  lowered  voice,  the  speaker  had 
walked  in  without  the  ceremony  of  waiting  to  be  asked,  and 
now  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  hall,  apparently  inventorying 
everything  in  it  with  a  swift  and  practised  eye.  His  subor- 
dinates followed,  the  policeman  halting  at  the  door-mat  and 
respectfully  wiping  his  shoes. 

"  Yes,  Huddesley,  had  him  about  eight  or  ten  weeks,  ain't 


268  THE    TENANTS 

you  ?  Little  dark,  stocky  fellow ;  talks  like  he  was  English ; 
says  he  was  butler  to  the  nobility  over  there — ain't  that  him? 
Is  he  in  the  house  now?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  the  doctor,  at  once  disturbed  and 
resentful.  "  He  had  to  go  out  this  evening.  If  you  will  oblige 
me  with  your  name,  sir,  and  the  object  of  this  visit ?  " 

"  You  got  it  there  on  the  card,"  said  the  other.  "  Take 
your  time,  Doc,  don't  go  off  at  half-cock.  I  know  it's  kinder 
sudden,  and  I'm  sorry,  but  I  guess  I'll  have  to  pinch  your 
man.  Where  is  he  ?  Where'd  he  go  ?  Don't  you  know  whether 
he's  in  or  not?  Who's  that  upstairs?  " 

"  That  is  a  guest  of  mine  who  is  ill,"  said  the  doctor  with 
rising  irritation.  "  If  you  will  please  to  explain,  sir " 

"  I  gotta  hump  myself,  or  I  wouldn't  'a'  bothered  you, 
Doc,"  said  the  man,  civilly  enough.  "  Soon's  you've  got  the 
sleep  outa  your  eyes,  you  can  just  look  at  that  card  I  give 
you.  We  ain't  goin'  to  make  you  any  trouble,  you  know,  any 
more'n  we  can  help,  that  is.  Where's  his  room?  Upstairs?  To 
the  back?  Go  up  there  and  look,  Judd.  Here,  you,  one-o'- 
the-finest,  what's  your  name?  " 

"  Clancy,  sor,"  said  the  policeman,  and  put  a  finger  to  his 
helmet. 

"  Go  'round  to  the  back,  and  keep  your  eye  out.  I'll  stay 
here.  Is  there  any  other  outside-doors,  Doc.  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor  shortly.  "  Is — ah — is  this  your 
card,  sir?  " 

"  Keep  your  shirt  on,"  said  the  other  soothingly.  "  You're 
comin'  along  by  the  slow  freight,  but  you'll  get  there  directly. 
Go  easy,  and  when  you're  through  readin'  let  me  know." 

The  doctor,  diverting  his  astounded  mind  from  the  spec- 
tacle of  a  strange  man  of  uncouth  appearance  and  no  manners 


THE    TENANTS  269 

giving  orders  in  his  house,  and  another  strange  man  going 
upstairs  seemingly  to  search  it,  adjusted  his  glasses  and 
bringing  them  to  bear  on  the  card  which  the  leader  had  thrust 
into  his  passive  hand,  read: 

John  P.  Hopple,  Collector. 
Mercantile  and  Commercial  Protective  Association. 


D.  B.  stands  for  Dead  Beats.  B.  D.  stands  for  Bad  Debts. 
We  collect  Bad  Debts  from  Dead  Beats  everywhere  for 
everybody.  We  can  collect  yours.  We  collect  regardless 
of  Lodge,  Politics,  or  Religion.  Do  business  with  us  and 
we  will  both  make  money. 

Some  people  don't  like  us. 

"  Ain't  nobody  up  there,"  said  the  ancient,  returning  from 
the  exploration  of  Doctor  Vardaman's  upper  rooms.  "  Ex- 
cept the  sick  dude  in  the  front  room.  Say,  maybe  he  ain't 
been  on  a  bat,  ain't  he?  Oh,  no,  I  guess  not!" 

"  Do  I  understand  that  Huddesley  has  got  himself  in 
trouble  owing  someone?"  asked  Doctor  Vardaman,  finding 
the  situation  somewhat  illuminated.  "  It  appears  to  me,  Mr. 
— er  " — he  glanced  again  at  the  card — "  Mr.  Hopple,  it  ap- 
pears to  me  that  your  methods  of  collecting  are  unduly — 
shall  I  say  vigorous?  To  rout  people  out  at  this  hour — I've 
no  doubt  the  man  would  have  paid  you  without  all  this  to-do. 
What  is  the  amount,  if  I  may " 

"  Say,  ain't  you  bark'ing  up  the  wrong  tree?  "  interrupted 
the  other,  eying  him  in  perplexity.  "  Or — here — say,  that's 
funny,  I  give  you  the  wrong  card.  Excuse  me,  Doc,  my 
mistake.  That's  a  man's  business-card  I  met  in  the  smoker 
coming  from  N'Yawk.  This  is  me.  Just  read  that,  will  you? 
It's  all  square,  Doc,  I've  got  a  reference — and  Judd  here's 
from  your  own  p'lice  headquarters  anyhow." 


270  THE    TENANTS 

Again  the  doctor   applied  himself  to  a  card  and  found 

thereon  the  following  legend: 

William  O.  Grimm. 

Paterson  Detective  Bureau. 

"  We  never  sleep." 

It  was  hardly  reassuring,  in  spite  of  the  last  statement ;  but 
before  Doctor  Vardaman  had  sufficiently  collected  himself  to 
ask  for  further  enlightenment,  the  policeman  appeared  in  the 
doorway. 

"  Why — er — say,"  he  remarked,  "  there's  a  party  in  a  hack 
outside  here  wants  to  know  the  way  to  Colonel  Pallinder's.  I 
told  him  that  there  big  house  standin'  back  with  them  big 
pillows  up  the  front,  ain't  that  right  ?  " 

"  That's  the  place,"  said  the  doctor,  half-listening. 

"  An'  why — er — say,  he  said  he  see  by  the  papers  they 
was  a  party  at  Colonel  Pallinder's  to-night  and  do  you  guess 
they've  gone  to  bed  yet,  becos  he's  met  a  lot  o'  kerridges  corn- 
in'  away  from  this  di-rection  like  it  was  over,  an'  he'd  like 
to  get  there,  becos  he's  gotta  hump,  he  says." 

"  Blamed  if  that  ain't  Hopple !  "  exclaimed  the  detective,  in 
admiring  wonder.  "  Well,  don't  that  beat  the  Dutch !  " 

"They  ain't  but  that  one  Pallinder  in  town,  is  there?" 
asked  the  policeman.  "  He  says  if  they's  anybody  up  yet,  he's 
going  to  hump  right  along  and  ketch  'em." 

"  Somebody  may  not  have  gone  to  bed  yet,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, sparing  a  moment  from  his  own  muddled  affairs  to  wonder 
what  this  late  arrival,  and  energy  of  pursuit  might  mean. 
"  In  fact  it  seems  my  man  Huddesley  has  not  got  back  from 
there  yet.  Tell  him  to  drive  straight  on  and  turn  to  the  right 
at  the  gate.  Did  you  say  your  were  looking  for  Huddesley, 
Mr.  Grimm?  What  for?" 


THE    TENANTS  271 

"  Why,  for  a  number  o'  things,  Doc,  bustin'  up  a  safe  at 
the  Farmers'  an'  Traders'  Bank  o'  Sharontown,  Missouri,  an' 
makin'  a  get-away  with  the  specie,  thirty-two  hundred  dollars 
in  coin  an'  greenbacks,  for  one  thing.  That  was  in  July, 
1881.  If  he's  the  man  I'm  looking  for,  his  name's  Tuttle,  or 
Cohen,  or  Jimmy  the  Toff — lie  goes  by  all  of  'em — and  he's 
wanted  in  Boston  besides  for  a  jewelry-shop  job  last  year." 

Doctor  Vardaman  gazed  speechless.  Mr.  Grimm's  words, 
delivered  in  a  dry,  curt,  and  entirely  unsensational  manner, 
fairly  rattled  about  the  old  gentleman's  ears  like  hail.  He 
was  conscious  of  anger,  of  resentment,  and  in  the  same 
breath  of  a  ghastly  and  growing  conviction. 

"  Impossible !  "  he  gasped ;  and  then  felt  involuntarily  for 
his  cuff -buttons.  "  Jewelry-shop  job!  You  mean  Huddesley's 
a  thief!" 

"  Put  it  there,"  said  the  detective,  nodding  encouragingly. 

"  Good  Lord !  Why — I — I  can't  believe  it.  He's  been  in 
my  house  for  over  two  months,  and  I've  never  missed  a 
thing !  " 

"  I  guess  you  didn't  have  nothing  worth  while,"  said 
Grimm,  casting  the  glance  of  a  connoisseur  about  him.  "  He 
thought  it  was  a  good  place  to  hide,  or  else  he  was  fixing  to 
bring  off  some  other  job." 

"  That's  what !  "  said  Judd  briefly. 

"  I — I — it  don't  seem  as  if  it  could  be !  Don't  you  think 
there's  some  mistake?  " 

"  Not  likely,"  said  Judd,  without  emotion.  "  I  spotted  him 
that  time  I  come  up  here  peddlin'  collar-buttons — t'ain't 
more'n  two  weeks  ago — an'  I'll  bet  anything  he  spotted  me, 
too.  He's  pretty  fly,  that  fellow." 

Mr.  Grimm  produced  a  bundle  of  papers  from  the  inside 


272  THE    TENANTS 

pocket  of  his  coat,  fished  out  a  bit  of  pasteboard  and  held  it 
before  the  doctor's  eyes.  "  That  him?  "  he  queried. 

Doctor  Vardaman  surveyed  it  a  while  in  silence.  "  I'm 
afraid  so,"  he  said  at  last,  with  a  sigh.  "  This  is  clean-shaven, 
and  Huddesley  wears  mutton  chop  side-whiskers,  but  it's  the 
same  face,  undoubtedly." 

The  detective  nodded  with  a  satisfied  air,  and  returned  the 
photograph  to  its  place.  He  repeated  his  former  question. 
"  Did  you  say  he'd  gone  out?  Was  it  to  this  party  to-night? 
How'd  that  happen  ?  " 

"  The — the  circumstances  are  a  little  peculiar,"  said  the 
doctor.  "Won't  you  sit  down,  Mr.  Grimm?  The  fact  is  the 
young  gentlemen  of  the  party — it's  an  entertainment,  private 
theatricals — were  dining  with  me,  and  one  of  them  was  taken 
sick " 

"  The  feller  upstairs,  hey?  "  interposed  Mr.  Judd,  smiling 
slightly. 

"  Ahem — yes.  Well,  then,  Huddesley,  who  knew  his  part, 
volunteered  to  take  his  place  in  the  play,  you  understand.  It 
was  a  great  accommodation " 

"  Hold  on  a  minute.  Didn't  it  strike  you  as  kinder  queer 
he  should  'a'  been  so  well  up  in  the  stage-business?  Fact  is, 
he  has  been  an  actor,  he's  been  pretty  nearly  everything,  but 
you  didn't  know  that  of  course.  But  didn't  you  ever  have  any 
suspicions  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  had  always  thought  the  man  was  rather — rather 
unusual — a  little  above  his  station,  perhaps.  But  this!  It 
never  occurred  to  me.  You  may  have  heard  that  there  was  an 
attempt  at  robbing  the  Pallinder  residence  this  winter,  and 
Huddesley  was  one  of  the  first  to  discover  it,  and  rouse 
the " 


THE    TENANTS  273 

He  paused,  seeing  the  two  detectives  exchange  a  meaning 
glance.  "  Told  you  so,"  said  Judd.  He  got  up,  walked  to  the 
door,  spat  into  the  porch,  and  returned  to  his  seat.  "  I  was 
on — not  right  off,  but  pretty  soon,"  said  he.  "  Go  ahead, 
Doc,  you  say  Huddesley  took  your  friend's  part  in  the 
play " 

"  I  suppose  he  had  seen  these  young  men  go  through  their 
parts  a  dozen  times.  It  didn't  seem  at  all  odd  to  us ;  it  would 
be  a  long  story  to  go  into  all  the  details,  but  we — we  found 
it  most  fortunate  that  he  could  supply  the  sick  man's  place.  I 
wish  to  say,  Mr.  Grimm,  that  I  have  no  cause,  personally,  to 
complain  of  Huddesley.  His  conduct  since  he  has  been  with 
me  has  been  most  exemplary,  I  have  never  observed  anything 
suspicious " 

The  doctor  came  to  a  dead  stand-still,  for  at  that  moment 
his  discovery  of  the  evening  flashed  into  his  mind  with  in- 
convenient abruptness. 

"  You're  a  kind-hearted  man,  sir,"  said  Grimm,  with 
warmth,  "  to  say  what  you  can  for  the  fellow,  but  I've  got 
his  record.  It's  queer  he  ain't  back  yet."  He  looked  at  his 
watch.  "  They  keep  it  up  pretty  late,  don't  they?  It's  after 
three."  He  got  up  briskly.  "  I  guess  we'd  better  leave  Clancy 
here,  Judd,  an'  go  on  up  to  the  house.  Looks  to  me  like  that'd 
ought  to  be  our  next  move.  All  ready?  "  He  stood  a  moment 
frowning  over  some  new  thought.  "  This  here  party,  Doc,  I 
guess  it  was  goin'  to  be  pretty  swell,  wasn't  it?  I  mean  ladies 
all  diked  out  with  diamond  earrings  an'  breast-pins,  hey?  " 

Doctor  Vardaman,  gripping  the  arms  of  his  chair  hard, 
stared  at  the  detective  transfixed.  If  the  various  revelations 
which  had  visited  the  old  gentleman  during  the  last  moment 
had  assumed  the  concrete,  tangible  form  of  so  many  successive 


274  THE    TENANTS 

clubbings,  he  could  not  have  been  more  stunned.  And  in  the 
ensuing  short  silence,  Teddy's  voice  could  be  heard  upstairs 
mournfully  requesting  more  ice-water  for  God's  sake. 

"  Got  himself  good  and  tanked,  didn't  he?  "  said  the  detec- 
tive, grinning. 

"  Mr.  Grimm,"  said  the  doctor,  with  difficulty,  "  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  my  young  friend  has  been  drugged.  I 
think  Huddesley  found  something  among  some  few  medicines 
I  keep — it  was  a  preparation  of  chloroform — and  put  it  in 
his  wine.  I  happened  to  examine  the  bottle,  and  it  had  been 
filled  up  with  water.  And  the  young  man's  glass  smelled  per- 
ceptibly of  the  stuff — I  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it — 
why  Huddesley  should  want  to  drug  him,  I  mean,  but  I — I 
am  beginning  to  understand.  And — wait  a  minute !  "  he  inter- 
posed as  both  of  the  others  opened  their  mouths  on  a  ques- 
tion. "  In  one  of  the  plays  which  they  were  to  perform,  there 
is  a  question  of  some  diamonds  being  stolen — the  plot  turns 
on  that  episode,  in  fact.  Jewels  were  loaned  for  the  young 
people  to  use— very  costly  ones.  I  am  told  Mrs.  Pallinder's 
necklace  alone  is  valued  at " 

"  Told  you  so ! "  shouted  Judd,  starting  to  his  feet. 
Grimm  quieted  him  with  a  gesture.  "  Well?  "  he  said. 

"  Teddy's  part — the  part  Huddesley  contrived  to  get  him- 
self substituted  in,  was  that  of  a  butler  who  steals  the 
diamonds " 

"Well,  WELL?" 

"  Well,  sir,  he  would  have  them  on  his  person,  in  his  pos- 
session, at  his  mercy,  for  the  last  two  acts,  the  better  part  of 
an  hour " 

"And  he  ain't  back  yet!  "  screeched  Mr.  William  O.  Grimm. 


THE    TENANTS  275 

He  made  a  frantic  gesture.  "Have  they  got  a  telephone? 
Where's  your  telephone?  " 

"  I  have  none,"  said  the  doctor,  feeling  as  if  he  were  con- 
fessing to  arson.  "  The  nearest  is  the  drug-store  corner 
of " 

Mr.  Grimm  uttered  an  oath  direct  and  brilliant  as  a  light- 
ning-stroke. Then  he  commanded  himself  with  an  effort. 
"  Judd !  "  he  bawled,  making  for  the  door,  and  even  in  head- 
long flight,  discharged  a  shaft  of  melancholy  satire:  "No 
telephone!  Say,  Doc,  it's  a  good  ways  to  Broadway,  ain't 
it?  "  said  he,  and  waved  a  farewell.  "  So  long  !  Many  thanks  ! 
See  you  later !  "  He  flashed  forth  from  the  house,  his  retainer 
at  his  heels.  The  doctor  saw  their  tumultuous  passage  down 
the  walk,  saw  them  scramble,  clamber,  struggle  into  the  wait- 
ing hack,  saw  it  hurl  upon  its  way  with  vociferations — and 
silence  fell  like  a  blow.  There  stood  Doctor  Vardaman  and 
the  policeman  staring  at  each  other  in  the  empty  porch. 

"That  fellow  can  hump,  can't  he?"  said  Clancy  admir- 
ingly. "You  just  gotta  where  he  comes  from.  Tell  you,  New 
York's  th'  place !  " 


CHAPTER    TWENTY 

BEFORE  "  William  Tell  "  was  half  over  it  became 
evident  that  Teddy's  place  was  more  than  filled. 
There  were  those  among  the  audience  who  assured 
me  later  that  they  had  penetrated  the  disguise 
early  in  the  performance;  but,  if  so,  they  exhibited  rare 
powers  of  self-control,  for  they  did  not  remark  upon  it  at 
the  time,  nor  indeed  until  the  whole  calamitous  story  had 
come  out  and  been  town-talk  for  days.  Some  queer  esprit  de 
corps  kept  the  girls  from  spreading  the  miserable  truth  about 
Teddy.  Sick !.  We  knew  only  too  well  what  was  the  matter 
with  him;  but  that  was  no  reason  why  we  should  proclaim 
it  to  the  world.  We  entered  into  the  conspiracy  of  silence, 
partly  from  a  real  generosity  of  spirit  and  desire  to  shield 
the  poor  fellow,  and  partly  because,  as  Mazie  sagaciously 
pointed  out,  talking  about  it  would  certainly  discredit  a  girl 
(in  a  manner  of  speaking)  with  the  other  men.  Mazie  un- 
doubtedly possessed  some  of  the  qualities  of  a  born  leader, 
among  them  that  of  getting  herself  listened  to,  without  being 
either  disagreeable  or  ridiculous ;  no  one  of  us,  not  even  Kitty, 
would  have  questioned  her  knowledge  of  men  and  their  ways. 
We  knew  a  dozen  who  were  prettier,  better  bred,  cleverer, 
and  kinder  than  Mazie  Pallinder,  but,  when  it  came  to  in- 
fluence, they  were  nowhere  beside  her.  Even  now,  I  believe  if 
she  came  into  my  life  again,  with  her  sallow,  paint-touched 
face,  her  slip-shod  pronunciation,  her  odd  flat  black  eyes,  her 
ineffably  appropriate  and  beautiful  clothes — I  say,  even  now, 
I  should  probably  follow  and  imitate  her  as  I  did  then ! 

276 


THE    TENANTS  277 

But  when   the   curtain   went   up   on   "Mrs.   Tankerville's 
Tiara,"  and  the  moment  arrived  when  Huddesley  must  appear 
as  Teddy  with  no  disguise  save  that  of  a  livery  and  false 
whiskers,  we  trembled  for  the  success  of  the  deception.  We 
might  have  spared  our  worry ;  Huddesley  came  on  in  the  ball- 
room scene  with  which  the  play  opened,  handing  a  tray  of 
ices — an(i  he  was  so  like  Teddy  in  face  and  movements  that 
even  upon  the  stage  where  the  devices  of  his  make-up  could 
be  studied  close  at  hand,  the  effect  was  startling.    Plus  roi 
que  le  roi,  he  was ;  he  passed  his  tray  not  like  a  butler  imitat- 
ing a  gentleman,  but  like  a  gentleman  imitating  a  butler; 
he  dropped  his  h's  and  stumblingly  forgot    to    drop  them 
with  all  Teddy's  humorous  self-consciousness.  He  managed 
his  double  part  so  well,  no  light  task  even  for  a  finished  actor, 
that  he  achieved  a  kind  of  equality  with  us ;  we  forgot  that 
he  was  Doctor  Vardaman's  servant.    The  thing  was  so  much 
a  matter  for  gratulations  that  I  think  we  scarcely  remembered 
it  was  also  a  matter  for  wonder.  If  J.  B.  or  the  other  men 
felt  any  uneasiness  they  did  not  reveal  it ;  but,  so  ingenuously 
self-centred  is  youth,  it  is  probable  we  were  much  too  deeply 
interested,  everyone  in  his  own  appearance  and  the  impression 
he  was  making,  to  be  genuinely  concerned  about  anybody 
else. 

The  audience  about  whom  I  had  had  such  fearsome  fancies 
must  have  been  singularly  lenient,  even  more  so  than  such 
audiences  usually  are  to  such  performers.  My  recollection  is 
that,  excepting  Huddesley,  we  were  too  bad  even  to  be  funny. 
"  Mrs.  Tankerville  "  is  a  good  stirring  comedy-drama,  of  the 
type  Boucicault  and  Tom  Taylor  made  so  popular  during  the 
quarter-century  succeeding  1850;  there  is  an  abundance  of 
vivid  dialogue,  with  plenty  of  "  points,"  and  plenty  of  "  sit- 


278  THE    TENANTS 

uations."  But  what  it  all  became  in  our  hands  is  a  dire 
memory.  Mazie,  it  is  true,  made  a  splendid  figure  on  the 
stage,  and  was  quite  dashing  and  theatrical,  but  she  forgot 
two-thirds  of  her  lines,  and  in  the  great  scene  where  she 
accused  Muriel  of  the  robbery,  had  to  be  prompted  at  every 
other  word.  And  Muriel — well,  there  was  no  blinking  the 
fact,  Muriel  was  a  "  stick."  She  was  so  big  and  gentle  and 
honest-looking  that  no  sane  person  in  stage-land  or  out  of  it, 
could  have  suspected  her  for  a  moment  of  anything  more 
criminal,  say,  than  hopping  into  bed  to  say  her  prayers  be- 
cause her  feet  were  cold !  The  excitement  flushed  her  so  that 
it  was  visible  through  her  paint,  and  she  did  not  look  so 
statuesquely  calm  and  finished  as  usual ;  nervousness,  which 
is  unbecoming  to  everybody,  set  particularly  ill  on  a  person 
of  her  weight  and  inches.  She  knew  every  word  of  her  part, 
and  recited  it  with  the  conscientiousness  which  she  would 
have  shown  to  the  Catechism — and  with  much  the  same  ex-* 
pression!  She  replied  to  Mazie's  halting  tirades  in  the  tone 
and  with  the  air  of  someone  declining  a  cup  of  afternoon  tea. 
"  Will  you  drive  me  into  the  street  ?  "  she  remarked  amiably, 
and  her  manner  suggested:  "Well,  all  right,  just  wait  till  I 
get  my  hat  on !  "  Kitty  mimicked  her  in  the  bedroom,  until  the 
rest  of  us  were  feeble  with  laughter.  Owing  to  Colonel  Pallin- 
der's  forethought,  the  machinery  of  the  curtain  and  foot- 
lights worked  perfectly,  and  the  stage-settings  were  orderly 
and  accurate ;  but  aside  from  these,  every  accident  known  to 
the  production  of  amateur  theatricals  befell  us.  At  one  junc- 
ture, when  there  should  have  been  a  "  loud  crash  "  behind  the 
scenes,  none  occurred,  no  one  in  particular  having  been  en- 
trusted with  that  feature  of  the  performance;  and,  in  the 
midst   of  a   dead   silence,   Jimmie   Hathaway   found  himself 


THE    TENANTS  279 

obliged  to  exclaim,  "  Good  Heavens!  What  is  all  that  infer- 
nal din  about?  "  To  make  matters  worse,  some  over-zealous 
person  immediately  thereon  made  a  "  loud  crash,"  and  Jimmie, 
lacking  the  presence  of  mind  to  repeat  his  former  remark, 
went  on  with  the  next  speech :  "  Everything  is  quiet  as  the 
grave,  now.  What  could  it  have  been?  "  The  general  verdict 
was  that  J.  B.  did  very  well,  even  in  the  love-scenes  where 
we  had  thought  he  would  make  a  failure  of  it ;  but  J.  B.  was 
deservedly  popular  anyway.  He  triumphed  by  sheer  force  of 
personality.  The  young  fellow  was  so  kind  and  hearty  and 
good-looking  he  could  not  but  be  pleasing.  Whatever  ap- 
plause "Mrs.  Tankerville"  brought  forth  (and  that  of  a 
sadly  feeble  and  perfunctory  nature,  I  fear)  went  to  him, 
and  none  of  us  grudged  it. 

The  play  has  three  acts,  and  our  much-enduring  audience 
had  sat  through  two  of  them,  when  Huddesley  waylaid  Mazie 
behind  the  scenes  as  she  was  rushing  back  for  one  of  her 
numerous  changes  of  costume.  These  afforded  a  species  of 
entertainment  that  was  "  not  in  the  bill,"  as  some  humourist 
observed ;  "  Mrs.  Tankerville's  "  clothes  were  one  of  the  few 
points  of  real  interest  about  the  performance. 

"Miss  Pallinder?  "  said  Huddesley,  timidly  halting  in  her 
way. 

"Yes,  what  is  it?" 

"Here's  the  di'monds,"  said  Huddesley,  presenting  the 
box,  done  up  for  the  sake  of  stage-effect  in  a  rather  large 
and  lumbering  parcel.  "  I've  been  carrying  'em  around  like 
you  told  me  to,  so  they'd  be  safe.  I  didn't  want  to  give  'em 
to  hanybody  but  you,  and  I've  got  to  go  now.  You  know  I 
don't  have  to  show  again,  except  where  Mr.  Taylor  comes  in 
and  sees  me  in  the  mirror,  and  plugs  me  over  with  the  pistol- 


280  THE    TENANTS 

shot,  and  then  they  drag  me  out  from  behind  the  screen.  And 
I  thought  anybody  could  put  on  the  clothes  for  that,  as  long 
as  the  audience  don't  see  anything  but  just  a  body " 

"Yes,  but  what's  the  matter?  Why  can't  you  finish?" 
asked  Mazie,  a  little  startled.  She  took  the  box  mechanically, 
and  edged  toward  her  room. 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,  I  ain't  feelin'  very  well.  I  think 
maybe  it's  the  wet  cold  night.  It's  just  come  over  me — I've 
got  a  kind  of  bad  turn  on  the  stomach  and " 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry,"  interrupted  Mazie,  fearful  from  his 
manner  that  Huddesley  was  about  to  enter  on  some  em- 
barrassing details.  "  Better  go  down  and  ask  my  father  for 
some  whisky — he's  in  the  dining-room — tell  him  I  sent  you. 
But  whaf  shall  we  do — oh,  Mr.  Carson?" 

The  enslaved  Chorus,  who  figured  in  a  small  part  in  "  Mrs. 
Tankerville,"  approached ;  he  was  always  hanging  around 
whenever  Mazie  went  on  or  left  the  stage,  in  hopes  of  a 
word.  But  the  girl  now  saw  him,  to  her  surprise,  in  overcoat 
and  hat. 

"You're  not  going?"  she  asked,  with  a  pang  of  regret; 
she  wished,  momentarily,  that  she  had  been  "  nicer  "  to  him. 
Whether  a  woman  cares  for  a  man  or  not,  she  never  sees  him 
leave  her  without  dismay.  "  You're  not  going?  "  said  Mazie, 
directing  a  troubled  and  wistful  smile  upon  him. 

"  Can't  help  it,  Miss  Pallinder,"  said  Bob,  warming  to  the 
very  marrow  at  her  glance.  "  I — I  hate  to  awfully.  But  it's 
getting  late,  you  know,  and  I've  got  to  meet  my  sister;  her 
train  will  be  in  about  midnight." 

"  Oh,  it's  not  that  yet." 

"  Pretty  near." 

"  But,  Mr.  Carson,  I  don't  know  what  we — I  don't  know 


THE    TENANTS  281 

what  I  shall  do  without  you.  I  haven't  anybody  to  go  to  but 
you.  Such  a  pity  about  T.Ir.  Johns,  isn't  it — his  being  taken 
sick,  I  mean — it's  upset  everything  dreadfully.  Here's  Hud- 
desley " 

Huddesley  explained  volubly — "  And  if  you,  or  somebody 
of  the  young  gentlemen  could  just  put  on  the  clothes,  Mr. 
Robert,  the  audience  will  never  know  the  difference  ;  they  don't 
see  anything  but  the  body  v/hen  they  drag  me  out  after  Mr. 
Taylor's  shot  me.  I've  £ot  a  bad  turn  on  my  stomach 
and " 

"  All  right,"  said  Bob  hastily.  "  Is  that  package  the 
diamonds?  They  have  to  find  'em  on  you,  don't  they?  Here, 
I'll  do  it — I  guess  I  can  make  the  train  anyhow.  Come  along 
and  get  the  costume  off,  Huddesley,  you  want  to  hurry." 

Mazie  stopped  him,  with  a  hand  on  his  arm.  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Carson,  we — I  ought  to  give  Huddesley  something,  oughtn't 
I?  For  coining  this  evening?  It  was  very  accommodating, 
you  know,  he  isn't  like  a  darky  servant.  What  ought  I  to 
give  him  ?  Five  dollars  ?  Ten  dollars  ?  "  she  whispered,  with 
a  manner  of  special  confidence  that  was  like  a  caress  to  the 
young  man. 

"  Never  mind,  Ma — Miss  Pallinder,"  he  said,  absurdly 
tremulous  and  excited.  "  I'll  see  about  it — don't  worry — it's 
like  you  to  think  of  it — you're  so — that  is "  words  for- 
sook him.  "  I'll  fix  Huddesley,  you  know."  he  faltered,  chafing 
privately  at  the  limitations  of  etiquette  and  the  English 
language.  Mazie  rewarded  him  with  a  long  look,  and  walked 
off. 

By  this  time,  in  the  crowded  area  behind  the  scenes,  what 
with  gas-jets  burning  full  head  on,  the  smell  of  cookery 
coming  up  the  back  stairs,  sawdust,  recent  paint,  cut  flowers, 


282  THE    TENANTS 

innumerable  other  odours  perfectly  impossible  to  classify, 
the  air  had  grown  well-nigh  unbearable.  Everybody  was 
overheated  and  out  of  temper ;  the  play  dragged  on  stupidly. 
I  went  down  to  the  second  landing  for  a  breath  of  fresh  air, 
and  was  standing  there  by  the  open  window,  in,  I  suppose, 
the  only  quiet  and  cool  spot  in  the  whole  house,  when  some- 
one came  with  a  rush  down  the  stairs.  It  was  Huddesley.  I 
remember  being  struck,  as  I  turned  and  saw  him,  with  the 
sharp  rigidity  of  his  features  ;  devoid  of  paint  and  false  beard, 
they  resembled  a  parchment  mask.  There  was  an  animal  swift- 
ness in  his  movements,  yet  he  stopped  short  as  we  faced,  tak- 
ing the  last  three  steps  with  an  air  of  leisure,  and  a  certain 
reckless  and  impudent  triumph  in  his  glance.  He  had  some- 
thing in  his  hand,  and  I  recall  the  jaunty  motion  with  which 
he  tossed  and  caught  it — it  was  a  gold  coin — and  thrust  it 
deep  in  his  pocket ;  Bob's  money,  no  doubt,  but  I  knew  noth- 
ing of  that,  and  seeing  the  man  pause,  looked  at  him  inquir- 
ingly. "  Why,  if  there  ain't  little  tootsie  that  I  made  a  face 
at !  "  he  said.  "  Sorry  I  scared  you,  toots !  Bye-bye !  "  And 
while  I  yet  stood  in  a  helpless  stupor  of  surprise,  passed  an 
arm  around  my  bare  shoulders,  twitched  my  chin  into  his 
hand,  and — he  was  gone  with  a  laugh,  out  of  the  house,  and 
out  of  our  lives !  I  may  fairly  say  that  of  all  that  company  I 
was  the  last  to  have  any  dealings  with  Huddesley ;  and  I  took 
care,  as  may  be  imagined,  that  no  one  else  should  know  the 
picturesque  circumstances  of  his  departure.  Fortunately  my 
testimony  was  not  necessary,  was  not  even  asked.  He  went, 
and  the  night  received  him  into  its  dark  world  of  wet  and 
wind  and  tossing  branches.  No  exit  could  have  been  more 
appropriate,  more  typical. 

A  moment  later  the  thunderous  rumble  of  chairs  and  out- 


THE    TENANTS  283 

burst  of  voices  overhead  announced  that  "  Mrs.  Tankerville's 
Tiara  "  had  at  last  run  its  disastrous  course.  It  was  very 
late ;  "  William  Tell  "  had  not  begun  until  nearly  ten  o'clock, 
and  the  encores  had  taken  up  a  good  deal  of  time.  The  second 
play  had  not  been  prolonged  by  undue  enthusiasm  from  the 
audience,  at  any  rate;  yet  I  doubt  if  they  were  as  weary  of  it 
as  we.  It  hung  on  in  spite  of  us ;  the  speeches  that  we  had 
heard  till  flesh  and  spirit  fairly  recoiled  from  the  sound 
of  them  (and  yet  no  one  knew  his  own!)  simply  would  not 
get  themselves  said.  We  had  reached  the  mood  when  we  hated 
the  smooth  and  conscientious  politeness  of  our  hearers. 

"  Up  at  the  *  Peoples  '  they'd  guy  this  thing  off  the  stage,'1 
one  young  man  said  to  another.  "  And  serves  us  right, 
too!" 

"  I  wish  to  goodness  we'd  stopped  with  '  Tell,'  the  audience 
wouldn't  have  been  so  tired " 

"  Audience !  It's  a  congregation !  "  said  Kitty  Oldham 
savagely.  "  And  I'm  glad  the  obsequies  are  over.  '  Mrs. 
Tankerville  '  is  dead  and  buried — for  mercy's  sake,  don't  any- 
one mention  her  name  to  me  again !  " 

"You  did  awfully  well,  Miss  Kitty — you  reminded  me  of 
Lotta." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Kitty  with  neat  sarcasm.  "  Now  go  and 
tell  Muriel  she  reminded  you  of  Bernhardt !  " 

"She  looked  more  like  Mrs.  Langtry,  didn't  she?"  said 
her  companion  diplomatically.  "  But  Miss  Pallinder  now  did 
have  a  kind  of  likeness  to  Bernhardt,  she's  so  tall  and  thin. 
I  thought  she  was  stunning  in  that  red  dress  and  the  diamonds 
— why  didn't  she  put  them  on  again  ?  Right  at  the  end  there, 
where  they  find  them,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  unless  she  wanted  to  shorten  up  the  last 


284  THE    TENANTS 

scene,  and  get  through.  She  said  she  was  going  to  give  them 
back  to  her  mother  as  soon  as  it  was  over." 

"  Mrs.  Pallinder's  not  wearing  them,  though.  What  be- 
came of  Huddesley  toward  the  last  there?  " 

"  Mazie  said  he  had  to  go,  the  doctor  had  sent  for  him  or 
something,  I  didn't  catch  what  it  was.  That  was  Bob  in  his 
clothes,  you  know." 

"  Say,  Teddy's  had  a  lot  of  substitutes  this  evening,  hasn't 
he?  Do  you  suppose  anyone  suspects?  " 

"  Nobody's  said  anything  to  me  anyhow." 

"Hello,  here's  Capoul!"1 

"  Oh,  Capoul — Rats !  "  said  Bob,  reddening  with  vexation. 
He  had  a  secret  conviction  that  a  tenor  voice  lacked  manli- 
ness, and  mistook  the  felicitations  of  his  friends  for  artfully 
disguised  raillery.  "  People  will  be  poking  that  '  La-foe-ho  ' 
business  at  me  from  now  till  doomsday,  I  suppose." 

"  We  were  just  wondering  if  anyone  knew  about  Ted." 

"  Guess  not ;  I  haven't  heard  anybody  say  a  word  about  it." 

"  Look  here,  how  do  you  happen  to  be  here  yet,  my  son  ? 
I  thought  you  said  you  had  to  go  and  meet  Susie." 

"  Well,  I  do,  but  not  right  away.  I  got  one  of  the  cab- 
drivers  outside — there's  about  fifty  of  'em,  you  never  saw 
such  a  jam  in  your  life — to  go  down  to  the  drug-store  and 
telephone,  and  they  say  the  train  from  New  York  won't  be 
in  till  two  o'clock  or  after.  Tell  you,  the  telephone's  an  in- 
stitution, isn't  it?  It's  like  Jules  Verne  coming  true;  they 
say  they'll  have  'em  all  over  in  private  houses  and  every- 

i  Happening  to  mention  Capoul  the  other  day,  I  discovered  that 
none  of  my  hearers  remembered  that  dashing  Faust,  Count  Almaviva, 
Romeo  of  twenty-five  years  ago.  "And  who  was  Capoul?  "  their  blank 
looks  seemed  to  ask.    Sic  transit  gloria! — M.  S.  W. 


THE    TENANTS  285 

where  before  long.    Have  you  seen  Miss  Pallinder?   I've  got 
this  next  waltz — oh,  there  she  is  with  her  mother." 

He  drifted  off,  and  Kitty  gave  her  partner  a  meaning  look. 
"  Bob  means  business,  I  guess,"  said  the  latter^  returning  it. 

His  hostess  welcomed  the  young  man  with  a  wan  vivacity. 
"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Carson?  This  is  the  first  chance  I've 
had  to  congratulate  you.  Everybody  did  so  well.  You  were 
especially  good  at  the  last." 

Undoubtedly  Mrs.  Pallinder  was  not  her  usual  suave  and 
confident  self  that  night;  her  attention  wandered.  She  had 
forgot  what  part  Bob  took,  and  there  was  no  graciousness  in 
her  fixed  smile;  it  might  have  been  painted  on  her  face  like 
some  of  her  other  adornments. 

"  The  last  was  the  best  part  of  the  whole  performance,  I 
guess,  for  the  audience,"  said  Bob,  grinning.  "  That  was  me 
they  dragged  in  from  behind  the  screen,  you  know.  It's  not 
everybody  that  can  make  believe  to  be  dead  as  artistically  as 
I  can.  I'm  the  second-assistant-deputy-Ted  Johns.  Miss  Pall- 
inder told  you  about  Huddesley,  didn't  she?  She  said  you 
knew." 

"  Yes — very  unfortunate,  wasn't  it?  "  said  Mrs.  Pallinder, 
smiling  mechanically.  "  I  mean  fortunate,  of  course — that  he 
could  take  Mr.  Johns'  part,  that  is.  Did  you — have  you  got 
my  necklace,  Mr.  Carson  ?  " 

"  Me?  Why,  no,"  said  Bob,  in  surprise.  "  They  were  sup- 
posed to  find  the  jewels  on  Jenks'  body,  you  know,  in  a 
bundle,  and  Miss  Pallinder  took  them.  Don't  you  remember 
where  she  says :  " '  Oh,  my  tiara !  That  poor  child !  What  has 
become  of  her?  '  " 

Mrs.  Pallinder  ought  to  have  remembered  it,  for  Mazie  had 
begun  with :  "  '  Oh,  my  child !  That  poor  tiara,  what  has  be- 


286  THE    TENANTS 

come  of  it?  '  "  so  that  a  number  of  the  audience  and  nearly 
all  the  actors  had  been  extinguished  in  giggles.  But  she  only 
said  vaguely,  "  Oh,  ah,  yes,  I  believe  there  was  something  of 
the  kind  said.  Mazie,  honey,  I've  just  been  asking  Mr.  Car- 
son what  he  had  done  with  the  tiara,  the  necklace,  I  mean — 
I  reckon  he  thinks  I  think  he's  stolen  it !  " 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  even  undo  the  parcel,"  said  Mazie  languidly. 
"  I  just  pretended  to  on  the  stage.  I  couldn't  worry  around 
with  the  thing.  That  play's  too  long  anyhow ;  I  cut  it  short 
right  at  the  end  there  on  purpose.  We  had  the  necklace  all 
twisted  up  on  wires,  you  know.  I  just  pitched  it  into  the 
bureau-drawer  and  locked  it  up.  It's  safe." 

"I'm  afraid  you're  tired,"  said  Bob,  as  Mrs.  Pallinder, 
with  a  return  of  her  accustomed  tact,  moved  unobstrusively 
away.  "  I'm  afraid  you're  worn  out,"  repeated  the  young 
fellow  tenderly.  "  You  had  the  hardest  part  of  anybody." 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-ONE 

IT  was  over  at  last — the  party  was  over ;  like  everything 
else  in  life,  things  had  turned  out  neither  quite  so  good 
nor  quite  so  bad  as  we  had  expected.  "  Mrs.  Tanker- 
ville"  was  a  failure— but  then  "William  Tell"  had 
been  a  success,  so  the  score  was  even.  The  curtain  had  gone 
down  on  both  of  them,  and  was  about  to  descend  upon  another 
little  drama,  if  we  had  known  it.  Everyone  said  the  evening 
was  a  great  success,  one  more  feather  in  the  Pallinder  crown ; 
downstairs,  under  the  colonel's  benevolent  supervision,  limit- 
less champagne  flowed;  the  supper  was  a  triumph;  the  ger- 
man  one  of  the  prettiest  ever  danced.  Muriel  led  with  J.  B., 
and  some  of  the  older  people  stayed  to  see  it,  and  talked  for 
days  afterwards  about  the  favours  Mazie  had  brought  from 
New  York ;  the  figure  where  the  men  got  little  silver  pencil- 
cases  and  the  girls  painted  gauze  fans ;  and  that  other  figure 
where  they  all  looked  so  pretty  with  Japanese  parasols  and 
paper  lanterns ;  and  the  figure  where  they  had  the  Easter 
eggs — that  was  charming !  But  it  was  all  over  at  last ;  blank 
dreariness  and  silence  settled  upon  the  ballroom,  the  last 
carriage  rumbled  away,  the  musicians  sacked  and  boxed  up 
their  instruments  and  disappeared,  featureless  and  unre- 
marked, along  with  the  caterers'  men  rattling  their  dishes, 
and  banging  amongst  their  folding  chairs — "  into  the  dark 
went  one  and  all."  They  left  behind  a  tired  and  not  too  good- 
tempered  mob  of  young  people ;  on  the  stage  and  behind  it 
everything  was   in   a  frenzied   disorder;   and  when  in   the 

287 


288  THE    TENANTS 

pinched  and  colourless  small  hours,  we  went  yawning  to  our 
beds,  those  useful  articles  of  furniture  were  hardly  to  be 
found  cumbered  as  they  were  with  wreckage.  There  were 
hats,  dresses,  damp  towels,  artificial  flowers  and  withering 
natural  ones,  slippers  and  odd  stockings,  soiled  and  tumbled 
veils,  handkerchiefs,  gloves,  fans,  the  gilt  and  tinsel  scraps 
of  favours — it  was  a  wilderness  where  the  most  amazing 
things  turned  up  in  the  most  amazing  places.  Somebody 
found  a  comb  in  a  box  of  candy ;  a  pair  of  corsets  wrapped 
carefully  together  with  some  fine  damask  table-napkins,  and 
sticking  upright  in  a  water-pitcher  (an  empty  one  by  good 
luck)  ;  and  old  Mrs.  Botlisch's  teeth  (the  lower  set)  jammed 
firmly  between  the  strings  of  a  guitar  that  had  been  used  in 
"  Tell " — these  were  some  of  the  discoveries.  We  were  too 
tired  to  be  amiable,  and  there  were  some  sharp  wrangles  over 
lost  nightdresses,  and  the  ownership  of  tooth-brushes  in  the 
girls'  quarters  before  we  settled  down  for  what  was  left  of  the 
night — the  morning,  rather.  We  were  two  in  a  bed,  one  on 
the  lounge,  and  always  three  or  four  in  a  room  according  to 
the  Pallinders'  happy-go-lucky  style  of  hospitality.  The  men, 
very  likely,  retired  with  even  less  formality;  they  had  some 
big  rooms  in  an  ell  running  out  from  the  main  building  at  the 
back  given  over  to  their  use. 

It  seemed  as  if  I  had  no  more  than  closed  my  eyes  (and,  as 
I  afterwards  found,  it  had  actually  only  been  about  ten 
minutes  since  the  last  door  locked  and  the  last  gas-jet  was 
turned  off)  when  the  consciousness  of  disturbance  somewhere 
about  the  house  roused  me.  Someone  was  shouting  out  of  a 
window,  and  being  answered  from  below.  The  sash  slammed ; 
and  presently  there  was  the  sound  of  stockinged  feet  padding 
downstairs.  Kitty  waked  up,  and  crossly  suggested  that  one 


THE    TENANTS  289 

of  the  guests  had  forgot  something,  and  come  back  for  it. 
"  Of  all  things  at  this  time  of  night !  "  she  snapped.  "  Might 
have  waited  till  daylight,  seems  to  me.  Some  people  have  no 
sense ! " 

The  bolts  of  the  front  door  rattled,  the  hall-gas  flashed  up, 
sending  a  dim  shaft  of  light  through  our  transom ;  and  a 
rumble  of  voices  arose.  Then  the  feet  padded  back,  and  there 
was  some  stir  in  Mrs.  Pallinder's  room. 

"  Oh,  bother !  Whatever  it  is,  they'll  never  find  it  to-night 
in  this  mess,"  said  Kitty  vigorously.  She  sat  up  in  bed. 
"  Why  don't  they  tell  'em  to  go  home,  and  let  us  have  a  little 
peace  and  quiet?  " 

That  simple  expedient,  however,  did  not  seem  to  occur  to 
anyone  else.  One  of  the  girls  awake  in  the  next  room  called 
in  that  somebody  must  have  lost  some  money  or  jewelry — 
"  they  couldn't  be  coming  back  for  anything  else."  Again 
the  feet  padded  down.  The  rumbling  talk  increased  in  volume. 
We  distinctly  heard  Colonel  Pallinder's  voice,  raised  in  ex- 
planation or  argument,  it  was  impossible  to  guess  which; 
Mrs.  Pallinder  or  someone  in  skirts  went  rustling  along  the 
hall.  Apparently  she  paused  to  lean  over  the  banister  and 
listen  a  while.  Lights  began  to  start  up  elsewhere  in  the 
house ;  there  was  some  movement  among  the  men  in  their 
reservation ;  and  old  Mrs.  Botlisch  challenged  raucously  from 
her  room  at  the  end  of  the  passage  to  know  what  was  the 
matter.  No  one  answered  her,  and  after  a  moment  there  came 
a  tap  at  our  door.  I  got  out  of  bed  and  opened  it,  full  of  un- 
easy wonder.  There  stood  Mrs.  Pallinder  in  a  flowered  blue 
silk  tea-gown  flung  on  anyway  over  her  nightdress,  and  flow- 
ing about  her  in  a  huddle  of  lace  and  ribbons ;  she  clutched  it 
together  at  the  throat ;  thin  wisps  of  straw-coloured  hair 


290  THE    TENANTS 

hung  around  her  face.  There  was  something  indefinably  alarm- 
ing in  the  very  haste  and  carelessness  of  her  appearance,  she 
who  was  always  powdered  and  corseted  to  a  fashion-plate  cor- 
rectness. She  looked  the  scared  ghost  of  her  everyday  self, 
immeasurably  older,  and  a  surprising  likeness  to  Mrs.  Bot- 
lisch  came  out  on  her  harassed  features. 

"  So  sorry  to  disturb  you,  my  dear,"  she  said,  with  a  tor- 
tured smile.  "  But  can  you  wake  Mazie — I  want  to  speak  to 
her." 

"  Nobody's  sick,  is  there?  "  I  asked,  startled. 

"  Is  it  a  telegram?  It's  not  bad  news  for  anyone,  is  it?  " 
Kitty  cried  out  apprehensively  from  the  bed. 

"  No,  no,  it's  nothing — really  nothing  at  all,"  repeated 
Mrs.  Pallinder — and  this  was  so  palpably  false  that  even  I 
could  see  through  it.  "  Tell  Mazie  to  come  here,  please,  I 
want  to  speak  to  her." 

"  I'm  coming,"  said  Mazie  drowsily,  beginning  to  fumble 
in  the  dark  for  her  slippers.  And  somebody,  Muriel,  I  think, 
scrambled  out  of  bed  and  lit  the  gas. 

"  You  mustn't  get  up,  don't  any  of  you  get  up,"  said 
Mrs.  Pallinder  excitedly.  "  I  tell  you  it's  only  Mazie  I  want 
to  speak  to.  All  of  you  go  back  to  bed  and  go  to  sleep.  Shut 
your  doors  and  go  to  bed!"  Her  usually  soft  voice  broke 
shrilly;  she  laid  a  hot  trembling  hand  on  my  shoulder  and 
pushed  me  back  within  the  room.  By  this  time,  however, 
everybody  was  broad  awake,  staring,  listening,  and  wonder- 
ing. And  Mrs.  Botlisch  began  again: 

"What's  the  matter?  Is  it  fire?  Mirandy,  where  are  you? 
Is  the  house  took  fire?  " 

"  No,  it  ain't,  ma.  Shut  up,  will  you?  "  said  Mrs.  Pallin- 
der roughly.  Astonishment  struck  us  all  dumb ;  never  before 


THE    TENANTS  291 

had  we  heard  her  speak  so  to  the  old  woman.  Mazie,  looking 
very  long  and  limp  in  her  white  gown  with  strands  of  black 
hair  sailing  down  her  back,  came  to  the  door,  and  her  mother 
dragged  her  outside,  slamming  it  on  us  sharply.  More  low- 
voiced  confusion  ensued.  Mazie  gave  a  high  exclamation,  and 
Mrs.  Pallinder  hushed  her  violently.  All  the  girls  congregated 
in  the  room,  in  wild  array  of  curl-papers  and  "  Mother  Hub- 
bards."  In  the  hall  one  of  the  men  could  be  heard  asking 
what  was  the  matter,  and  excuse  him,  but  could  he  be  of 
any  use  ? 

"What  on  earth  do  you  suppose  has  happened?'"  said 
Kitty,  no  longer  out  of  temper,  but  on  edge  with  curiosity ; 
before  anyone  could  offer  a  guess,  Mazie  came  back.  She  did 
not  look  at  any  of  us ;  she  did  not  speak ;  she  walked  straight 
to  the  bureau  in  her  room,  took  a  package  from  its  top 
drawer,  and  walked  straight  out  again.  For  so  simple  an  act 
it  was  the  strangest  bit  of  pantomime  that  can  be  imagined ; 
so  quick  and  purposeful  were  her  movements  in  contrast  to 
her  ordinary  languor,  that  no  one  had  a  chance  to  ask  ques- 
tions, even  if  we  had  dared ;  but  I  believe  we  were  all  a  little 
frightened  by  the  unexplained  change  in  her  bearing  and 
her  mother's.  There  was  a  controlled  menace  about  the  girl ; 
she  dominated  us  to  the  last ;  and  when  she  went  out,  closing 
the  door  not  fiercely  as  her  mother  had  done,  but  with  a 
resolute  gentleness,  we  should  not  have  been  surprised  to  hear 
the  key  turn  in  the  lock.  The  scene  was  not  without  its 
ludicrous  aspects;  there  we  were  eight  or  ten  night-gowned 
girls,  shivering  in  the  draughts,  perched  here  and  there  amid 
the  rich,  fantastic  disorder  of  that  room,  while  mystery 
whispered  in  the  hall  outside.  We  did  not  talk;  we  were  all 
openly  listening,  and  such  was  the  tension  that  when  Muriel 


292  THE    TENANTS 

said  suddenly :'"  There's  a  carriage  coming!"  everyone  in 
the  room  started  violently.  A  girl  by  the  window  put  the 
blind  aside  and  peeped  out  cautiously.  "  Why,  there's  one 
here  already !  "  she  said,  and  then :  "  There're  two  men  in 
the  other;  they're  just  getting  out " 

Upon  the  words,  a  strange  voice,  a  man's  voice,  cried  out 
in  the  hall  below,  with  mingled  anger  and  surprise,  "  Damna- 
tion ! "  it  shouted,  "  What  d'ye  mean  by  this?  "  Mrs.  Pallin- 
der  screamed  harshly  like  a  strangling  animal,  and  with  a 
truly  melodramatic  fitness,  the  door  bell  began  furiously  to 
ring! 

That  was  too  much  for  us.  I  don't  know  who  was  first  in 
the  hall;  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  all  there  at  once.  The  im- 
mediate person  I  saw  was  Mazie  standing  against  the  oppo- 
site wall.  She  had  snatched  up  some  kind  of  shawl  or  blanket 
and  wrapped  it  around  her  over  her  nightgown ;  her  face  was 
white,  but  she  was  laughing  in  a  hysterical  way.  At  the  head 
of  the  stair  Mrs.  Pallinder  clung  to  the  newel.  From  the  hall 
there  arose  a  clamour  of  excited  voices,  punctuated  by  peal 
after  peal  on  the  bell  like  the  knocking  at  the  castle-gate  in 
the  awful  scene  of  the  murder  from  "  Macbeth."  The  door 
of  Mrs.  Botlisch's  room  was  open,  and  there  was  the  old 
woman  sitting  up  in  bed,  a  tremendous  figure  in  her  red  flan- 
nel nightdress,  roaring  out  questions  to  which  no  one  paid 
any  attention. 

"  Oh,  do  go  back,  girls,  do  go  back,  here  're  the  men !  " 
said  Mazie,  still  giggling  feebly. 

"  Men ! "  cried  her  grandmother,  catching  the  word. 
"  Time  enough !  I'd  like  to  see  someone  with  some  sense. 
Where's  that  Taylor  feller?" 

"  Taylor — what  Taylor  ?  "  said  I,  bewildered.   I  thought, 


THE    TENANTS  293 

for  an  instant,  the  old  woman  had  suddenly  gone  crazy,  and 
wanted  to  be  measured  for  a  pair  of  breeches.  Anything 
seemed  possible  in  the  hurly-burly. 

"  Here  I  am,"  said  J.  B.,  presenting  himself  in  trousers 
and  a  night-shirt,  one  red  sock  and  one  polka-dotted  blue 
one,  and  his  suspenders  trailing  in  the  rear.  "  He  went  the 
kilt  one  better,  didn't  he?"  said  Kitty,  recalling  his  ap- 
pearance later,  and  she  wondered  what  Muriel  thought.  But 
if  the  men  were  a  weird  crew,  what  were  we? 

"Here  I  am,"  said  J.  B.  "What's  the  matter?  Can  I  do 
anything?  "  He  afterwards  said  that  everything  under  the 
sun  that  could  have  happened  went  through  his  mind,  from 
fire  and  murder  to  the  reappearance  of  Arthur  Gwynne's 
ghost — everything  that  could  have  happened,  except  the  in- 
conceivable thing  that  had  happened! 

Mazie  ran  to  the  banisters.  "  Do  somebody  open  the  door ! 
Can't  you  hear  the  bell?  "  she  screamed. 

"  Find  out  who  it  is  first !  Find  out  who  it  is — don't  let 
them  in  without  finding  out !  "  Mrs.  Pallinder  called  out 
desperately. 

"  You  Taylor,  for  the  Lord's  sake,  see  what  it's  all  about ! " 
cried  Mrs.  Botlisch.  "  Mirandy,  gimme  my  teeth " 

A  fresh  outbreak  of  voices  downstairs  announced  that  the 
door  had  finally  been  opened.  Mazie  came  running  back  as 
Colonel  Pallinder  limped  up  the  stairs.  "  There !  Huddes- 
ley!  "  she  exclaimed  and  burst  into  shrill  laughter.  "  They're 
asking  for  him.  The  minute  that  man  opened  the  package  I 
thought  about  Huddesley.  Never  mind,  ma,  they  can't  come 
on  us  for  anything.  Huddesley's  got  the  laugh  on  every- 
body ! " 

Mrs.  Pallinder  all  at  once  broke  into  sharp  crying.  "  I 


294  THE    TENANTS 

can't  stand  it,  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer !  "  she  screamed 
out,  and  beat  her  hands  together.  "  I  can't  stand  this  life, 
I  tell  you,  I  can't  stand  it ! " 

"  All  right,  honey,  you  shan't  have  to,"  said  the  colonel, 
trying  to  soothe  her.  "  I'll  take  care  you  shan't." 

She  pulled  away  from  him  furiously.  "  Oh,  you!  "  she  said 
with  fierce  scorn.  "  Oh,  you!  "  And  then  in  some  strange  and 
violent  revulsion :  "  No,  no,  I  didn't  mean  that,  Willie,  I 
didn't  mean  that,  my  dear ! "  and  began  to  cry  wildly  in  his 
arms.  It  was  horrible. 

I  relate  these  circumstances  as  faithfully  as  I  remember 
them ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  give  any  idea  of  the  mirthless  farce, 
the  grotesque  tragedy  of  that  night.  It  was  at  this  moment, 
I  believe,  as  we  were  all  standing  in  a  miserable  embarrass- 
ment, and  irresolution  and  (speaking  for  the  girls,  at  least) 
something  not  unlike  fright,  that  one  of  the  strange  men 
whom  we  had  heard,  came  up  the  steps.  He  paused  as  his 
head  rose  above  the  landing,  and  he  caught  sight  of  us. 
Well  he  might !  We  must  have  been  a  fearsome  picture. 

"  Sorry  to  intrude,  ladies  and  gents,"  said  he,  hastily 
dropping  back  a  little,  and  removing  his  hat.  "  But  I  gotta 
hump " 

J.  B.  came  to  the  head  of  the  flight,  and,  as  it  were,  took 
command  of  the  situation.  He  was  no  great  figure  of  a  hero 
with  his  suspenders  slapping  at  his  heels;  but  for  all  that  he 
looked  a  manly  and  masterful  young  fellow,  and  I  think 
we  were  all  both  grateful  and  relieved  at  his  assumption  of 
responsibility.  No  one  else  seemed  equal  to  the  needs  of  the 
hour. 

"  Look  here,"  said  J.  B.  quite  pleasantly  and  firmly.  "  You 
can't  come  up  here.  These  ladies  must  not  be  disturbed  any 


THE    TENANTS  295 

more,  do  you  understand?  Now  who  are  you  and  what  do 
you  want?  " 

"  That's  business,"  said  the  other  frankly.  "  I'm  a  de- 
tective. My  name's  Grimm.  I've  got  another  plain-clothes 
man  from  your  police  headquarters  downstairs,  if  you  don't 
believe  me,  ask  him " 

"Mr.  Taylor — isn't  that  Mr.  Taylor?"  said  someone 
from  below.  "  Don't  you  remember  me — Judd — don't  you 
remember  me  at  the  bank?  " 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  J.  B.  "  I  remember  you.  Go 
ahead,  Mr.  Grimm,  what  do  you  want?  " 

"  Well,  say,"  said  another  voice  a  little  farther  down, 
"  young  fellow,  if  you're  bossing  this,  my  name's  Hopple, 
and  I " 

"  One  at  a  time,"  said  J.  B.  forcibly.  "  Go  on,  Mr. 
Grimm." 

"  Right  you  are,  sir,"  said  Grimm  fervently.  "  I  thought 
I'd  struck  an  asylum  full  of  lunys  at  first,  but  I  guess  it 
ain't  so  after  all.  I'm  looking  for  a  man  named  Huddesley — 
that  is,  he  called  himself  Huddesley  here — that's  wanted  for 
several  crooked  jobs  all  over  the  country.  I've  been  after  him 
for  six  months.  It's  a  dead  cinch  Huddesley's  the  man — 
Judd  here's  had  an  eye  on  him  for  six  weeks " 

"  That's  what !  "  said  Judd,  with  emphasis. 

" he  was  in  the  house  to-night.  Is  he  here  now,  do  you 

know  ?  " 

"  Huddesley  has  been  here,"  said  J.  B.,  commanding  his 
surprise.  He  turned  his  face  towards  us,  and  hushed  us  with 
a  gesture.  "  Huddesley  has  been  here,  but  he  left  the  house 
some  time  ago,  I  don't  quite  know  when.  Miss  Pallinder,  do 
you  remember  when  he  went?  "  _    - 


296  THE    TENANTS 

He  had  to  repeat  the  question  twice  before  Mazie  could 
get  herself  together  enough  to  answer  it.  "  When  he  went  ?  " 
she  said  vaguely.  "When  he  went?"  Someone  else  said  it 
was  before  midnight;  at  last  Mazie  exclaimed  that  it  was 
three  hours,  oh,  yes,  she  was  sure  it  must  be  quite  three  hours 
since  he  had  gone. 

"  He  said  he  was  sick  and  was  going  home — that  is  to  Doc- 
tor Vardaman's,  where  he  is  employed,"  said  J.  B.  "  If  you 
will  go  there,  you  may  find  him,  the  house  is " 

"  Find  him  the  hell !  "  interrupted  Mr.  Grimm  with  dismay 
in  his  face.  "  When  he's  had  three  hours'  start ! "  He  made 
a  gesture  of  finality.  "It's  all  off!"  said  he.  "Why,  I've 
been  to  Doctor  Vardaman's,  mister,  how'd  you  s'pose  I  hap- 
pened to  come  here?  " 

"  Somebody's  tipped  it  off,"  said  Judd,  below  stairs. 

"  That's  what  you  get  for  peddlin'  collar-buttons,  sonny," 
said  Grimm.  "  He  was  onto  you  from  the  word  Go !  " 

"If  he's  not  at  the  doctor's,  I  suppose  he  got  wind  of 
you  somehow,  and  skipped  out,"  said  J.  B.,  overriding  these 
cryptic  remarks,  and  anxious  to  end  the  business.  "  Anyhow 
that's  none  of  our  affair.  Is  that  all  you  wanted  to  know, 
Mr.  Grimm?  For  we're  all  tired  and  we'd  like  to  go  to 
bed." 

"  Here,  wait  a  minute — "  said  Hopple,  vigorously,  and 
the  detective,  sweeping  us  with  a  comprehensive  glance,  spoke 
at  the  same  moment :  "  Hold  on,  young  man,  no  affair  of 
yours,  hey?  Well,  I  ain't  so  sure  about  that.  The  old  gent 
said  he  would  likely  have  the  handling  of  some  valuables,  a 
necklace  or  something.  Will  you  kindly  ask  all  those  ladies 
if  they'll  take  account  o'  stock  and  see  if  they're  missing 
anything?  " 


THE    TENANTS  297 

The  unseen  Mr.  Hopple  uttered  a  strong  exclamation. 
Every  girl  made  a  movement  toward  her  bedroom,  or  nerv- 
ously grabbed  at  some  part  of  her  person  as  her  own  par- 
ticular treasures  occurred  to  her.  Every  girl  but  Mazie, 
that  is;  and  her  next  words,  pronounced  with  entire  calm, 
by  the  way,  were  comparable  in  effect  to  the  explosion  of  a 
bomb  amongst  this  singular  company. 

"  Oh,  mercy-me !  "  she  said.  "  How  slow  you  all  are !  Can't 
you  see?  Why,  I  saw  it  right  off !  I  believe  he's  got  the  neck- 
lace!" 

There  was  an  instant  of  appalled  silence.  Then : 

"  Told  you  so !  Always  said  he  was  a  rascal ! "  cried  Mrs. 
Botlisch  triumphantly. 

"  Huddesley  got  the  necklace?  "  said  J.  B.  aghast.  "  Why, 
how  could  he?  He  gave  it  back  to  you.  Bob  Carson  had  it, 
didn't  he  ?  "  Everybody  spoke  at  once.  The  detective  whis- 
tled, swore  softly,  then  he  stooped  to  mutter  with  Judd. 
"  That's  what !  "  said  the  latter  vehemently.  Two  or  three  of 
the  coloured  servants  had  collected  on  the  third-floor  land- 
ing above  us,  and  hung  over  the  banisters,  giggling  and 
nudging.  In  the  darkness  their  faces  were  nothing  but  shin- 
ing teeth  and  eyeballs,  reminding  me,  oddly  enough,  of  a 
picture  in  "  Alice  in  Wonderland,"  of  the  Cheshire  Cat's  grin 
materialising ;  Gwynne  and  I  had  had  the  book  when  we  were 
little.  I  cannot  think  why  I  should  have  thought  of  it  then, 
of  all  times ;  or,  indeed,  why  the  incongruous  memory  abides 
with  me  now.  Mazie  was  speaking  in  a  high,  strained  voice. 
"  I  never  opened  the  package,"  she  was  saying.  "  Why,  you 
know  I  didn't.  I  just  took  it  from  him  and  I  never  opened 
it.  After  'Mrs.  Tankerville '  I  locked  the  thing  up  and 
never  thought  of  it  again.  I  wouldn't  have  dreamed  of  sus- 


298  THE    TENANTS 

pecting  Huddesley;  why,  he's  been  in  and  out  of  the  house 
all  day  long  for  weeks,  hasn't  he,  ma?  Hasn't  he,  girls?" 
There  was  a  kind  of  defiance  in  her  voluble  explanation. 
"  Tell  that  Hopple  man,  will  you?  "  she  urged  the  detective, 
forgetting  that  "  that  Hopple  man  "  was  almost  within  arms' 
reach  of  her.  "  He'd  better  go  after  Huddesley  if  he  wants 
his  necklace — we  haven't  got  it.  Huddesley  must  have  banked 
on  my  not  opening  the  package ;  but  anyhow,  he  was  out  of 
the  house  and  gone  long  before  I  had  a  chance  to " 

"  Who's  Bob  Carson,  and  who's  Mrs.  Tankerville,  and 
what  package  are  you  talking  about?  "  Grimm  inquired  suc- 
cinctly. 

"  Well,  this  is  the  package,  I  guess,"  said  Hopple's  voice, 
and  two  hands  reaching  up  delivered  to  Mr.  Grimm  a  crum- 
pled piece  of  wrapping-paper,  and  about  a  ladleful  of  car- 
pet tacks. 

"  There's  your  diamond  necklace,"  continued  the  voice 
in  hoarse  satire.  "  Leastways  there's  what  was  given  me  for 
a  diamond  necklace.  I  don't  know  Huddesley  from  Adam's 
off  ox,  but  it's  a  pretty  slick  sort  o'  story,  seems  to  me." 

What  Mr.  Hopple  looked  like,  I  cannot  say,  for  none  of 
us  saw  the  gentleman.  He  made  a  movement  to  ascend  the 
stairs,  but  J.  B.  looming  very  large  and  square  on  the  top 
step  intercepted  him. 

"  Are  you  another  detective,  sir  ?  "  asked  J.  B.  in  his  mild 
and  steady  voice. 

"  No,  I  ain't,"  returned  Mr.  Hopple,  sulkily,  yet  not  un- 
civilly this  time. 

"  Then,"  said  J.  B.  with  increasing  mildness,  "  perhaps 
you  will  be  good  enough  to  explain  what  you  are  doing 
here?  " 


THE    TENANTS  299 

"  I'm  collecting  a  bill  for  Goldstein  Brothers — that's  my 
business,  collecting.  I  know  it's  a  little  bit  late  at  night,  but 
I  can't  help  that.  I've  got  to  hump  myself;  I  thought  I 
might  find  somebody  up  on  account  of  the  blow-out " 

"  It's  an  outrage,  sir,  an  outrage  which  no  Southern  gen- 
tleman  "  said  Colonel  Pallinder,  turning  from  his  wife. 

"  I  repeat,  sir,  no  Southern  gentleman " 

"  If  we  had  the  money,  don't  you  suppose  we'd  pay  your 
old  bill?"  cried  Mrs.  Pallinder,  in  a  kind  of  hysterical 
screech.  Her  face  was  red  and  swollen  with  crying;  her  fair 
hair  hung  in  strings.  She  ran  to  the  banisters  and  shook  her 
slim  fist  at  the  man,  a  tousled  virago,  unrecognisable  in  her 
rage.  "Why  don't  you  believe  us?  As  if  anybody  wanted 
to  owe  you — as  if  anybody  liked  to  owe  you !  It's  too  silly — 
you  act  perfectly  crazy!  We'd  have  given  you  the  necklace 
if  we'd  had  it,  but  we  haven't  got  it — Huddesley's  stolen  it. 
What  are  you  staying  around  here  for?  We  haven't  got 
the  money  and  we  haven't  got  the  necklace,  I  tell  you !  Why 
don't  you  go  away?  You  haven't  any  right  here — you're  a 
cheat,  trying  to  collect  for  that  necklace  when  we  haven't 
got  it.  Make  him  go  away,  Willie !  " 

"  That's  right,  Mirandy,  you  talk  to  him  like  a  Dutch 
uncle!"  said  old  Mrs.  Botlisch  with  keen  enjoyment. 

"  I  don't  care — I'm  glad  Huddesley  has  got  it ! "  said 
Mazie  fiercely. 

"  Owing  to  circumstances — a  temporary  shortage  of 
funds,  sir,"  said  Colonel  Pallinder,  addressing  J.  B.,  blandly, 
"  I  have  been  unable  to  satisfy  this  fellow's  monstrous,  his 
preposterous  demand.  But  if — Mr. — ah — Mr.  Hopple  will 
come  around  to  my  office  to-morrow  at  half -past  eleven  sharp, 
I " 


300  THE    TENANTS 

Mr.  Hopple's  voice  invited  him  to  teach  his  grandmother 
to  suck  eggs.  "  This  here  bill's  been  owing  three  years,  and 
I'm  going  to  collect  it,  don't  you  worry — I'll  be  at  the  office. 
I'm  going  to  collect  if  I've  got  to  hang  around  this  town 
till  the  cows  come  home !  " 

"  You  can't  get  blood  out  of  a  turnip,"  said  Mr.  Grimm 
philosophically.  J.  B.  interrupted  this  lively  exchange  of 
metaphor. 

"  Mr.  Grimm,"  said  he,  "  it's  pretty  plain,  I  think,  that 
the  criminal  you  want,  this  Huddesley,  has  got  away  with 
the  diamond  necklace.  Why  we  never  suspected  him  seems 
strange  enough  now;  I  can  think  of  a  dozen  things  that 
should  have  put  us  on  our  guard,  but  the  fact  remains  we 
never  did.  If  you'll  just  step  downstairs,  and  wait  until  I  can 
get  some  clothes  on,  I'll  tell  you  all  that  we  know  about  him. 
Mr.  Hopple,  you  can  see  for  yourself  that  there's  nothing 
to  be  done  here  now.  Your  business  can  very  well  hold  over 
until  to-morrow — until  daylight,  that  is — it's  none  of  my 
business,  of  course  " — he  interrupted  himself,  glancing  in- 
quiringly at  Colonel  Pallinder,  and  as  that  gentleman  re- 
mained silent,  went  on — "  but  I  think  it's  about  time  you 
went  to  your  hotel,  and  let  these  people  go  to  bed " 

"  Huh !  I  don't  take  my  orders  from  you,  young  fellow !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  be  a  fool,  Hopple,"  said  the  detective  impa- 
tiently. "  He's  right.  Go  along ;  you  can't  do  anything 
here." 

J.  B.  descended  a  step.  "You  don't  have  to  take  my 
orders,  Mr.  Hopple,"  said  he  gently.  "But  I  should  think 
you'd  rather  take  an  order  than  a  kick." 

"  Noble  boy !  "  ej  aculated  Colonel  Pallinder,  much  af- 
fected. "  There  spoke  a  son  of  old  Kentucky ! "     The  col- 


THE    TENANTS  301 

lector  retreated  with  sundry  mutterings.  J.  B.  came  back, 
dusting  his  hands  lightly  together. 

"  Sir,"  said  Colonel  Pallinder,  holding  his  wife  with  one 
arm,  and  stretching  out  the  other  in  a  fine  gesture.  "  Your 
hand !  A  Southern  gentleman,  sir " 

"  Oh — er — that's  all  right,"  said  J,  B.,  embarrassed.  He 
turned  a  kind  troubled  glance  upon  us.  "  I  wish  all  you  girls 
and  everybody  would  go  to  bed.  It's — it's  all  right,  you 
know.  I'm  going  to  see  those  fellows,  and  they'll  go  away 
presently." 

"  You're  A  Number  One,  that's  what  you  are,  Taylor," 
said  old  Mrs.  Botlisch,  in  high  approval.  "  You  got  more 
gumption  in  your  little  finger  than  all  the  rest  of  'em  in  their 
whole  bodies,  d d  if  you  ain't !  " 

Mrs.  Pallinder  dried  her  eyes,  and  began  to  arrange  her 
dishevelled  dress  with  fluttering  hands.  "  You  mustn't  mind 
ma,  girls,"  she  said,  resuming  her  smile. "  She's  really  aw- 
fully eccentric." 


CHAPTER    TWENTY-TWO 

NEXT  day  the  crash  came.  The  papers  revelled 
in  it;  the  Pallinders'  affairs  occupied  the  place 
of  honour  (or  at  least  of  supreme  notoriety)  in 
the  first  column  of  the  first  page;  the  Pallin- 
ders' creditors  assembled  and  filled  the  air  with  thunder; 
Muriel  was  incontinently  recalled  to  Washington;  excited 
Gwynnes  rushed  upon  the  scene.  And  when  at  last  the  smoke 
of  conflict  lifted,  where  were  the  Pallinders?  Nobody  knew; 
nobody  cared — except  Scheurmann  and  Goldstein  Brothers, 
and  perhaps  a  few  others.  Within  a  fortnight  there  was  a 
red  flag,  flaunting  garishly  on  the  lawn  among  the  budding 
lilacs  and  faintly  greening  beeches.  Templeton  had  out  sand- 
wich-men and  yard-long  posters  announcing  an  auction  in 
the  house — "  everything  without  reserve  to  the  highest 
bidder." 

The  Armenians  reappeared,  and  various  other  greasy- 
looking,  dark-skinned  birds  of  prey  flocked  through  the 
rooms,  rapping  on  the  mirrors,  testing  the  peacock-blue  and 
old-gold  draperies  between  their  dirty  talons.  I  met  Mrs. 
Maginnis  coming  out  of  Doctor  Vardaman's  yard,  boo-hoo- 
ing  and  calling  on  all  the  saints  to  bless  him,  with  a  tribe  of 
little  Maginnises  at  her  heels.  What  had  the  doctor  done? 
I  do  not  know.  The  old  gentleman  went  quite  shabby  that 
summer  in  an  old  linen  duster  we  had  not  seen  on  him  for 
years;  and  it  is  certain  he  bought  no  more  first  editions  for 
a  long  while. 

302 


THE    TENANTS  303 

And  here  closes  the  episode — for  episode  it  truly  was,  and 
no  story,  as  must  have  been  discovered  by  this  time.  A  story, 
properly  conceived  and  executed,  must  have  a  beginning  and 
an  end,  and  this  lacks  both ;  it  even  lacks  a  hero  and  heroine. 
Fiction  would  have  demanded,  and  a  conscientious  story- 
teller would  have  supplied,  a  much  more  picturesque  and  ap- 
propriate final  act.  The  diamonds  should  have  been  restored, 
and  (let  us  hope)  the  bill  paid ;  Muriel  should  have  married 
J.  B. ;  Bob  should  have  married  Mazie ;  the  curtain  should 
have  gone  down  on  the  lovers  embracing  and  everyone  else 
shaking  hands.  I  have  not  been  a  novel-reader  all  these  years 
for  nothing,  and  nobody  need  remind  me  how  a  romance 
should  end ;  if  this  narrative  finishes  in  open  defiance  of  all 
the  proprieties,  I  can  only  offer  the  mean  apology  that  it  is 
all,  or  nearly  all,  true.  Pars  minima  fui!  Some  of  it  I  saw, 
some  heard,  some  merely  guessed,  and  alas,  none  of  the  beau- 
tiful things  mentioned  above  came  to  pass !  Looking  back 
on  it  now,  with  the  compliant  wisdom  of  forty-odd,  I  am 
satisfied  it  is  as  well  those  marriages  did  not  take  place. 
Muriel  would  hardly  have  been  a  success  transplanted ;  and 
the  Pallinder  connection  would  inevitably  have  proved  disas- 
trous to  poor  Bob. 

As  for  Huddesley,  I  cannot  sincerely  say  I  was  ever  sorry 
that  that  entertaining  and  original  scoundrel  escaped ;  in 
other  and  more  gallant  days,  he  and  the  Pallinders  alike 
might  have  figured  as  a  sort  of  pirates,  differing  in  de- 
gree and  methods  perhaps,  hardly  at  all  in  kind.  There 
is  humour  in  the  spectacle  of  one  of  them  preying  on  the 
other.  And,  for  the  soul  of  me,  I  cannot  be  angry  with 
either.  Bon  voyage,  oh  ye  adventurers !  What  shores  have 
you  not  coasted,  and  what  men  essayed  in  all  these  twenty- 


304  THE    TENANTS 

five  years !  At  least  I  did  not  suffer  by  you,  and  therefore, 

with  a  noble  generosity,  I  wish  you  well ! 

I  fell  in  with  J.  B.  the  other  day,  after  a  long  interval; 
and  he  had  a  good  deal  to  tell  me  in  the  pleasant  hour  we 

spent  of,  "  Don't  you  remember "  and  "  Whatever  has 

become  of ?  "  J.  B.  goes  up  and  down  the  world,  and 

knows  many  men  and  their  cities  these  days ;  he  is  getting  a 
little  bald  and  massive,  yet  is  still  a  notable  figure,  not  greatly 
changed;  and,  "What  do  you  think?"  he  said,  "I've  seen 
Huddesley,  and  he  knew  me  at  once!  It  was  the  year  of  the 
St.  Louis  Fair;  that's  the  last  time  I  was  West,  you  know. 
I  went  from  there  to  the  town  of  Joliet,  Illinois,  where  you 
know  the  Government  runs  an  elegant  home  for  ladies  and 
gentlemen  whose  society  and  services  the  community  doesn't 
need  all  the  time. 

"  I  went  out  there — voluntarily,"  he  added,  with  a 
chuckle.  "  It  was  the  Fourth  of  July  and  blazing  hot,  and 
I  had  three  hours  to  put  in  before  my  train  left.  The 
man  I  went  to  see  told  me  I'd  find  the  Pen  c  very  instructive.' 
But  when  I  got  there,  they  were  giving  all  these  wretches 
a  holiday,  in  honour  of  Uncle  Sam's  birthday,  and  I  tell  you 
they  were  a  pretty  hard-looking  set.  The  guard  was  show- 
ing me  through  a  yard,  when  suddenly  one  of  these  jolly, 
cursing,  sky-larking  parties  in  stripes  dropped  out  of  a 
bunch  of  them,  and,  says  he,  getting  in  the  way,  and  staring 
hard  at  me :  '  Mr.  Breckinridge,  don't  you  know  me?'  I 
didn't  at  all,  for  a  minute,  although  really,  considering  his 
age,  and  the  kind  of  life  he  must  have  led,  he  hasn't  changed 
much.  Then:  'Will  you  'ave  'ock  with  your  hoysters,  sir?' 
said  the  scoundrel  with  a  wink — and  it  flashed  on  me  who  he 
was !  '  Huddesley ! '  I  shouted  out.  The  attendant  was  per- 


THE    TENANTS  305 

fectly  petrified;  he  thought  I  must  be  some  old  pal  of  Hud- 
desley's — I  had  to  explain  before  he  would  let  us  talk.  Eh? 
Why,  sure!  As  the  children  say,  sure!  I  talked  to  him,  and 
he  asked  after  everybody  with  the  greatest  interest.  He  even 
got  quite  autobiographical  and  confidential  after  a  while; 
told  me  he  was  up  for  five  years  this  time  (for  a  little  trouble 
he  got  into  in  New  Orleans,  he  said  delicately),  but  he  had 
served  two-thirds  of  the  sentence,  and  would  be  out  in  six 
months,  his  time  having  been  shortened  for  good  behaviour. 
'  There's  nothin'  to  it,  anyway,  Mr.  Breckinridge,'  says  he,  in 
a  serious  manner.  '  I  guess  I  ought  to  know,  I've  tried  both 
ways.  It's  me  for  the  simple  life  after  this ;  my  eyes  are  kind 
of  troubling  me,  and  I'm  getting  along  in  years.  I'm  goin'  to 

square  it  after  I  get  out  this  time '  He  meant  he  was 

going  to  live  honestly,  you  know.  '  In  all  I've  spent  eighteen 
years  in  the  stir  ' — that's  slang  for  the  prison,  it  seems — 
1  with  a  sentence  here  and  a  sentence  there,  since  the  first 
time  of  all  in  Pentonville,  'long  back  in  '72.  That's  a  good 
while  out  of  a  man's  life  that  ain't  but  fifty-five  years  old. 
I'm  going  to  cut  it  out  after  this.  I  begun  pretty  young 
and  I'm  through  now.'  He  told  me  he  was  London-born, 
Seven  Dials,  some  slum,  I  suppose — {  That's  where  Hi  got 
the  haccent,'  he  said,  grinning  again.  He  had  a  chequered 
career  before  we  knew  him,  footman,  errand-boy,  sneak-thief, 
actor,  preacher,  insurance-agent,  confidence-man — it  would 
be  hard  to  say  what  he  hadn't  been.  There  was  an  interval 
when  he  was  apprentice  to  a  pastry-cook — I  think  he  was 
honest  then,  for  about  a  year,  until  the  till  was  left  open 
one  evening.  He  said  that  was  where  he  learned  the  trade  of 
cook — '  But  I  was  always  was  one  to  pick  up  things  quick, 
you  know  that,  Mr.   Breckinridge,'  he   said  with  a   funny 


306  THE    TENANTS 

swagger.  I  asked  him  if  he  had  had  an  eye  on  Mrs.  Pallin- 
der's  diamonds  from  the  first,  or  whether  he  just  took  the 
chance  when  it  came.  He  gave  me  an  odd  look.  '  Say,  you 
don't  mind  asking  questions,  do  you?'  he  said.  And  then, 
quickly  with  a  half-laugh:  'Oh,  well,  Mr.  Taylor,  you're 
straight,  I  know  you  wouldn't  throw  me  down,  and  it's  twenty 
years,  anyhow.'  He  went  on  to  say  that  he  had  landed  in 
town  just  about  the  time  of  the  Charity  Ball,  when  the 
papers  were  full  of  the  diamonds — you  remember,  don't  you? 
The  Pallinders  were  It  then.  '  I  thought  I  might  get  the  job 
of  butler  at  the  house,  and  applied,'  he  said.  '  Nothin'  doin' — 
their  help  was  all  coloured.  The  very  next  day  Doctor  Var- 
daman's  advertisement  came  out ;  say,  I  was  right  there  with 
the  goods.  He  was  easy,  the  old  gent  was.  I  hadn't  spieled 
my  little  spiel  five  minutes  before  I  saw  it  was  6  M'  lud,  the 
carriage  waits,'  for  mine.  And  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Taylor, 
I  was  wise  to  the  Pallinder  game  from  the  start;  I  knew 
Pallinder  was  due  to  blow  up  any  day,  and  your  Uncle  James 
would  have  to  hustle  to  get  those  diamonds,  or  somebody 
else  would.  That's  why  I  went  after  'em  by  the  Romeo-and- 
Juliet  route,  'stead  of  taking  it  slow  and  easy,  and  getting 
to  be  like  a  son  of  the  house  like  I'd  planned.  Well,  you  know 
that  deal  fell  through  owing  to  Mrs.  Pallinder's  neuralgia; 
if  you  and  the  colonel  and  everybody  else  had  stepped  a  little 
livelier,  you'd  'a'  nipped  me.  As  it  was,  I  just  barely  had 
time  to  get  back  home;  and  then  what  does  the  faithful, 
devoted,  all-to-the-square-dealing  Huddesley  do  but  wake  up 
Doctor  Vardaman,  and  lodge  an  information  against  him- 
self  '  'What?'    I   cried.  'You   were   the   burglar?'  To 

tell  the  truth,  I  hadn't  quite  been  able  to  follow  Huddesley's 
flights  of  metaphor  for  the  last  few  sentences,  until  all  at 


THE    TENANTS  307 

once  it  come  over  me  what  he  meant.  '  You  mean  you  were 
the  burglar  all  the  time?  '  I  asked  him.  He  grinned  with  a 
queer  kind  of  pride.    '  Sure  I  was.    But,  say,  didn't  I  play  it 
smooth?  Couldn't    I    give    Hen.    Irving    cards    and    spades, 
though?  Next  day  I  did  have  a  sore  throat — I'm  subject  to 
>em — but   I   wasn't  sick  like   Doctor  Vardaman   thought.  I 
kept  up  the  game — stayed  in  bed  and  passed  up  the  cops  and 
the  high-brows  with  the  stylographic  pens — I  couldn't  risk 
seem'  'em,  you  know.  I  don't  know  how  that  fellow  Judd  got 
on  the  trail — I  guess  he  had  a  little  more  grey  matter  than 
the  rest  of  'em.  Of  course  they  had  photos  and  descriptions 
of  me  all  over  the  country.  Anyway,  when  he  turned  up, 
peddlin'  collar-buttons  about  six  weeks  later,  I  was  next  right 
off.  I  knew  I'd  better  beat  it  for  the  tall  and  waving — but  I 
did  hate  like  poison  to  go  without  those  rhinestones — after 
all  the  trouble  I'd  took,  too.'  The  fellow's  persistence  and 
patience  were  something  astonishing,"  said  J.  B.,  with  wonder. 
"  Enough  to  have  insured  his  success  at  any  honest  under- 
taking, you'd  think.  He  told  me  it  was  very  hard  to  keep  up 
the  role.  '  Sometimes  I'd  forget— about  the  talk,  and  all,  you 
know,'  he  said.    *  And  then  I'd  lay  awake  at  nights  in  a  cold 
sweat  for  fear  somebody  had  noticed  it.  Yes,  sir,  I'd  been 
studying  and  studying,  making  myself  solid  with  everybody, 
and  playing  the  faithful-and-devoted  racket  until  I  was  sick 
of  it— and  no  diamonds  in  sight  yet !  Then  "  Mrs.  Tanker- 
ville  "  came  up,  and  all  at  once  I  began  to  see  a  ray  o'  light. 
But  just   as   things   was   going  like   greased   rollers   on    a 
toboggan-slide,  hanged  if  the  doctor  didn't  sour  on  the  Pall- 
inders!  Said   he   was   never   going   there   again.  'Stead   of 
shooting  the  chutes,  looked  like  I  was   due  to  bump  the 
bumps.' 


308  THE    TENANTS 

"  '  In  the  end,  that  was  the  best  thing  that  could  have 
happened — because,  you  know,  the  old  gent  invited  you  all 
to  dinner,  and  the  minute  he  did  that,  I  saw  the  chance.  I 
knew  Johns  was  a  good  deal  of  a  lusher,  and  if  I  could  get 
him  stewed  good  and  plenty,  why,  I  could  turn  the  trick.  If 
some  of  the  rest  of  you  got  a  little  how-come-you-so,  not 
batty,  you  know,  just  a  little  googleish,  it  wouldn't  hurt.  But 
I  wasn't  taking  any  chances  on  Johns ;  I  fixed  him  with  some 
kind  of  rock-a-bye-baby  dope  out  of  the  doctor's  closet.  You 
remember  what  happened  after  that.  Say,  I  enjoyed  it — 
honest-to-goodness  I  did ;  I  liked  all  you  boys  first-rate.  Say, 
if  I'd  been  different,  if  I'd  been  born  and  brought  up  like  you, 
for  instance,  I'd  have  cut  a  pretty  wide  swath,  now,  wouldn't 
I?  It's  all  in  the  start  a  man  gets,  ain't  it?  '  " 

J.  B.  paused. 

"  I  dare  say  Huddesley  could  imitate  me  better  than  I  can 
him,"  he  said.  "  But  wasn't  that  last  a  funny  thing  for  a 
man  like  that  to  say?  He  was  in  earnest,  proud  of  his  peculiar 
talents,  and  a  little  regretful.  I  didn't  know  what  to  say, 
but  I  knew  better  than  to  sermonise." 

"  Do  you  suppose  he  really  did  '  square  it '  after  he  got 
out?" 

"  Not  likely,  I  think.  Good  resolutions  aren't  very  lasting 
with  that  class.  I've  no  doubt  he  meant  it  at  the  time.  He 
asked  about  Doctor  Vardaman.  I  told  him,  and  do  you  know 
the  fellow's  face  clouded  over  for  a  second.  I  believe  he  really 
was  pained. 

" '  Well,'  he  said.  '  The  doctor  was  an  old  man,  and  of 
course  it  wasn't  to  be  expected  he  could  live  very  much 
longer.  I  might  have  known.  But  it  makes  me  feel  bad,  Mr. 
Taylor.    I  kind  of  expected  to  go  and  see  him  when  I  got 


THE    TENANTS  309 

out  this  time,  and  tell  him  I  was  going  to  finish  out  on  the 
square.  He  was  the  whitest  man  I  ever  knew.  I  never  took 
the  value  of  a  cent  from  him,  though  I  had  plenty  of  chances ; 
yes,  sir,  he  was  the  real  thing,  that  old  gent  was.'  And,  just 
as  I  was  leaving  he  said :  '  I'd  like  mighty  well  to  know  who 
that  nice  little  trick  was  that  I  kissed  on  the  back  stairs 
when  I  was  dusting  out  with  the  necklace.  I  didn't  know  her 
name,  I  guess  she  didn't  ever  come  to  rehearsals  when  I  was 
around.  Kind  of  a  fat  little  girl,  with  brown  eyes — she  was 
too  surprised  to  squeal ;  it  was  a  fool  thing  to  do,  but  I  felt 
pretty  good,  and  she  was  just  my  size  in  girls.'  I  couldn't 
place  her  for  him,  but  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  Kitty.  It 
would  be  like  Kitty  to  keep  quiet  about  it."  I  agreed  with 
him  that  it  would  be  much  like  Kitty;  her  eyes  are  blue,  by 
the  way,  but  J.  B.  had  forgot  that. 

His  face  was  a  little  sober  as  he  answered  some  of  my 
questions. 

"  I  met  the  colonel  in  New  York  not  long  ago,"  he 
said.  "  He  looks  pretty  old  and  seedy  and  shifty-eyed 
these  days.  He  talked  just  the  same;  had  a  few  shares  to 
sell — just  a  few,  you  know,  they  were  soaring  up  in  price 
and  in  a  week  would  be  unobtainable  for  love  or  money,  but 
he  wanted  to  let  me  in  on  the  ground  floor — in  a  gold  mine 
down  in  Eastern  Tennessee. 

"  Don't  laugh ;  it  wasn't  funny.  He  was  too  anxious  to  be 
so  fluent  and  convincing  as  he  used  to  be  in  the  old  days; 
he  reminded  me  of  a  poor,  hungry,  eager  old  dog.  I  bought 
some  of  the  shares,  for  the  sake  of  auld  lang  syne — I  couldn't 
help  it.  And  there  was  something  sordidly  pathetic  in  the  air 
of  affluence  he  put  on  after  he'd  gathered  the  money  up  in 
his  trembling  old  hands.  I  suppose  he  hadn't  handled  so  much 


310  THE    TENANTS 

in  months;  yet  the  sum  was  not  large.  He  insisted  on  my 
going  home  to  dinner  with  him ;  they  were  in  a  dingy  board- 
ing-house over  in  Brooklyn.  It  gave  me  a  start  to  see  Mrs. 
Pallinder;  I  actually  thought  for  a  minute  it  was  the  old 
Botlisch  woman,  although  she  died  years  ago,  the  colonel 
told  me.  Mrs.  Pallinder's  got  to  looking  exactly  like  her,  but 
she  has  more  manner,  you  know ;  she  put  on  a  lot  of  4  side  '  for 
my  benefit.  The  boarding-house  people  were  very  much  im- 
pressed. I  shouldn't  wonder  if  my  visit  bolstered  up  the  Pall- 
inder credit  a  good  deal — Pm  so  solidly  respectable.  But  do 
you  know,  I'm  sure,  that  aside  from  any  motives  of  self-in- 
terest, the  Pallinders  were  honestly  glad  to  see  me;  they 
talked  about  old  times  the  same  as  you  and  I  are  doing  now 
— just  as  if  they  hadn't  left  owing  everybody  and  under  a 
cloud  generally !  I  wouldn't  have  opened  my  mouth  about 
the  diamond  necklace,  and  that  last  night,  but  Mrs.  Pallinder 
brought  it  up  right  away ;  she  rather  flourished  it  before  the 
other  boarders.  Huddesley  and  her  jewels,  and  what  she  said, 
and  what  So-and-So  said — it  was  rather  diverting  to  hear 
her  version." 

"  Mazie  wasn't  with  them,  was  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  Mazie's  married.  Married  an  army-officer,  and 
they're  living  in  the  Philippines.  Mrs.  Pallinder  told  me  the 
name,  but  I've  forgotten  it." 

"  We  used  to  think  that  Bob  Carson " 

"  Yes.  Bob's  never  married — he  was  awfully  in  earnest. 
Remember  what  a  sweet  voice  he  had?  They  used  to  get  him 
to  sing  '  Comfort  ye,  my  people,'  in  Trinity  the  last  Sunday 
in  Advent,  don't  you  remember  ?  Poor  old  Bob  !  " 

"  Rich  old  Bob,  you'd  better  say !  He's  made  a  lot  of 


THE    TENANTS  311 

money.  Susie's  children  will  get  it  all,  most  likely.  He's 
very  fond  of  them ;  he  sent  the  youngest  girl  to  Europe  last 
year  to  study  music,  somebody  told  me.  Maybe,  if  Mazie 
knew,  she'd  be  sorry  she  wouldn't  have  him.  But  it's  better 
so ;  they  wouldn't  have  been  happy.  Do  you  suppose  he  ever 
asked  her,  though?" 

"  Well,  a  man  don't — one  isn't  likely  to  know  about  things 
like  that,"  said  J.  B.  somewhat  embarrassed.  "  But  I  believe 
he  did — right  after  the  party,  in  the  midst  of  the  rumpus 
when  the  Pallinders  were  getting  it  right  and  left  from 
everybody." 

"And  she  refused  him?  I  think  it  was  fine  of  Bob  to  ask 
her.  Like  you  and  Muriel,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"Hey?"  said  J.  B.,  very  much  startled.  A  sudden  flush 
appeared  on  his  amiable,  middle-aged  countenance ;  he  goes 
clean-shaven  now,  he  who  was  so  gallantly  moustached  in 
eighty-three — such  are  the  mutations  of  fashion. 

"  I  mean  in  the  play — in  *  Mrs.  Tankerville,'  "  I  added 
hastily. 

"  Oh,  the  play — oh,  yes,  I  remember."  He  looked  down 
meditatively,  fingering  the  stem  of  his  wine-glass  as  we  sat 
at  luncheon.  Muriel  would  not  have  refused  him,  had  she 
been  asked  in  good  earnest ;  I  wondered  if  he  knew  it — but  I 
think  he  was  at  once  too  gallant  and  too  simple — honest, 
kindly  J.  B. ! 

"  I  saw  her  when  I  was  over  this  last  time,"  he  said.  "  She's 
the  Countess  of  Yedborough  now,  you  know.  She's  got  eight 
children !  The  oldest  girl  looks  something  like  her,  but  not 
so  handsome  as  her  mother  was  at  her  age — oh,  not  to  com- 
pare. She  was  the  handsomest  woman  I  ever  saw." 


312  THE    TENANTS 

"Has  she  changed  much?" 

"  Well,  these  big  women — she's  got  awfully  fat — fine-look- 
ing still,  of  course,  but  she's  too  fat."  Then,  catching  my  eye 
inadvertently  directed  on  his  own  not  inconsiderable  expanse 
of  light  waistcoat,  he  grinned  good-naturedly.  "  Guess  I'd 
better  be  careful  how  I  throw  stones  around  here,"  said  he. 
"  I'm  living  in  a  glass  house  myself." 

"  Did  Muriel  ask  after  any  of  us  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  wanted  to  know  about  everyone — even  Ted 
Johns.  I  told  her  they'd  found  out  that  Huddesley  put  some 
drug  in  Ted's  wine  that  night,  so  that  it  wasn't  liquor  that 
was  the  matter  with  him.  I  thought  I'd  save  his  reputation 
that  much,  if  I  could.  Poor  Ted,  how  he  did  waste  his  life ! 
No  man  ever  had  better  chances  at  the  beginning,  but  he  was 
his  own  worst  enemy." 

"  You  might  say  that  of  all  of  us." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so.  But  we  don't  all  drink  like  fish.  Kind 
of  sad  about  Teddy ;  he  got  some  appointment  in  the  com- 
missariat when  our  troops  went  to  Cuba,  and  died  of  the 
fever  at  Siboney  in  '98— you  knew  that?  He  ought  never 
to  have  risked  going  to  that  climate;  he  couldn't  have  had 
any  constitution  left  by  that  time." 

I  assented,  and  we  paid  Teddy's  memory  the  tribute  of  a 
moment's  silence ;  yet  I  dare  say  we  were  not  thinking  so  much 
of  him  and  his  career,  as  of  our  own  youth  and  the  inevitable 
years. 

"  Well,  this  has  been  very  pleasant,  but  I  must  go,"  he 
said  presently  and  rose.  "  Next  time  I  come  West  I'm  going 
to  bring  my  wife ;  I  want  her  to  meet  everyone  here — the  old 
set,  I  mean.   She's  heard  me  talk  about  you  so  much.  I  wish 


THE    TENANTS  313 

we  could  meet  a  little  oftener,  but  living  so  far  apart — you 
know " 

Well,  fuit  Ilium!  Fuimus  Troes!  J.  B.  will  find  both  the  old 
set  and  the  old  town  changed  greatly  (for  the  better,  no 
doubt)  when  he  returns.  The  coming  generation — nay,  the 
generation  that  has  already  arrived,  will  not  remember 
the  look  of  things  as  they  were  in  my  time.  As  I  was 
saying,  they  were  tearing  down  the  old  Gwynne  house  the 
other  day. 


THE  END 


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